Change is Inevitable
by westcoastseabee
Summary: Early in his career, Spencer Reid makes a rash decision. While he did it to change the minds of his friends and co-workers he will soon find that he changes far more. This will eventually be slash and rated M.
1. Chapter 1

BAU Life I

"Don't worry, Pretty Boy. You'll get there. In the meantime, here!" A silver whistle on a blue nylon cord flew towards Spencer. He bats it out of the air and glares at his friend.

"that's enough. We have a case, an LDSK" Hotch said as he takes a step towards the two agents.

A final glare from Spencer ends any discussion on the topic and everyone moves to focus on the case at hand, a long distance serial killer who wasn't taking the kill shot.

The day after the closing of the LDSK case, Spencer found himself in Garcia's office.

"Ok, Junior G-Man, talk to me. You have been playing with that whistle and thinking so hard I swear I smell smoke. What's going through your head?" Garcia breaks the tense silence in her office

With a heavy sigh, Spencer replies "It's nothing."

"Nothing doesn't cause my little genius to sit there quietly while looking like someone just kicked his puppy."

It's just, well, even after making the shot in the last case and passing my re-qual, I just feel like I still haven't convinced the team that I'm competent in the field. Morgan left the whistle on my desk again this morning." After realizing what he had said, Spencer looked down to his hands where he was weaving the nylon cord through his fingers, playing a solitary game of cat's cradle.

"Oh sweetie, you are competent and they know it! They just worry about you. You are still so young. It is hard for them to see you in dangerous situations. No one likes seeing someone they care for in danger!"

"I'm not that young anymore though! I'm 24 now, I've been living on my own for what amounts of half of my life. I can handle myself. Heck, it isn't as though I don't have the same training as everyone else in the office," he blurts out as he stands and begins pacing.

"Well, I think we need to take this discussion out of the office." Garcia says after a moment of watching Spencer pacing like a caged animal.

"What?"

"You, my sweet man need some pizza, ice cream, and a dr who marathon. Let's go," she says as she locks down her system, grabs her purse and begins to usher Spencer out of the office.

"Why do I need all that? I'm not turning it down, it sounds like a great plan but I don't understand."

"You don't need to understand. Just know that this is how we are going to brainstorm how you can show to the team that you are as badass as you actually are. Now, what are your thoughts on pineapple on pizza?" Reid's shudder at that left Garcia laughing for the rest of their trek to the parking garage.

After making their way to Garcia's apartment, they settled down with their pineapple-less pizza and beverages. It wasn't long after polishing off the meal and Garcia went to get the ice cream that Reid finally broke the silence on the topic which prompted the dinner.

"I still have can I show the team that I'm not just a walking brain? I mean, I pass my gun shoots, I pass the PT tests, what else can I do? After this last fiasco I'll always just be the brain that may or may not be authorized a weapon. I'm really not as out of shape or clumsy as everyone thinks. Just because I'm not a muscle bound blockhead doesn't mean I don't care and that I'm only good for sitting behind a desk! I made it through the same agent training that he did! And this commercial break is taking forever."

A quick look at the tv from her position in the kitchen had Garcia formulating a plan. "Would joining the military be enough to show that you have brawn to your brain?"

"What? No, I'm not quitting the FBI to join the Army. Are you nuts? I want to show people that I can do physical tasks, not lose my job."

"You don't have to leave the FBI. You could join the reserves! Come on, you saw that commercial, one weekend a month and 2 weeks a year? You can do that! Showing up in the bullpen in uniform, dripping in ribbons and medals might just be the ticket," Garcia was getting more and more excited about this idea.

The idea of a part time commitment gave Spencer pause. "I still don't want to join the Army though. It's an interesting idea but I'm not Army material"

"What about another service? I'm sure that we can find some sort of reserve thing you can do. Easy!"

A thoughtful look came over Spencer's face as he sat back to watch the next episode of Dr Who.

"You might have something there Garcia, you might have something there."

"I'll see what I can dig up" Garcia said as she curled onto the couch next to spencer with her laptop.

Before the end of the episode, she had a list of possibilities. Over ice cream, they worked together on the plan.

"What about this one? You could do the Navy, right? Ships and stuff are cool."

"No, bow ties are cool"

"Spencer, focus! This is the rest of your life here! Look, you could be an Intelligence officer. You are intelligent, you can totally do this!"

"You know Garcia, I think you are right. I can do this. Do you see an application anywhere?"

"Right here. Oh, and I found a number for a recruiter. You need a recruiter, right?"

BAU Life II

Spencer heaved a sigh of relief as he slumped down in his chair. The conversation with Gideon and Hotch went far better than he had anticipated but it had left him feeling emotionally drained. Luckily, Morgan was over at the academy teaching a self defense course and Elle was ensconced in JJ's office talking about who knows what, but it was highly unlikely that it was work related. The relative quiet of the bullpen gave him the chance to sort through the meeting that he had just had.

When Garcia had come up with the utterly insane idea of joining the military, Spencer didn't think anything would come of it. After all, there were a lot of points along the way that could easily see his application rejected for one reason or another. Meeting with a recruiter was the first rejection point and somehow, Spencer still wasn't sure HOW, but somehow he had impressed the recruiter enough that he had actually worked with him to put together an application package.

The memory of that initial meeting brought forth a snort of amusement. Spencer had been so naive walking into the recruiting office. Having seen far too many movies and commercials, he thought it would be as easy as walking in and signing on the dotted line before getting on a bus to boot camp. As it turns out, to become an officer, even in the reserves, meant a lengthy application process, interviews, a medical exam, and selection board. Considering that the application itself required letters of recommendation or acknowledgement from his employer, he was forced to go to Hotch and Gideon long before it was fait accompli. It wasn't just the how to join that he didn't understand, it was also all the options for what to do once he had joined. He learned that there were a lot of options, more than he expected, for joining the military as a reservist. When he told the recruiter that he had multiple PhDs in hard sciences, the recruiter had gotten a strange look in his eyes and started rattling off potential career paths for him. Eventually the recruiter had steered him away from the intelligence field that Garcia had originally proposed. As it turns out, his degree in engineering was going to be his key to join the Navy's Civil Engineer Corps. Building bridges and base camps was wildly different than what he did with the BAU but he looked on that as a good thing. After all, wasn't the point of his joining to show that he was more than a weak nerd? Besides, he often felt that his engineering degree was gathering dust compared to the times he used knowledge gained from his other academic pursuits.

Getting the approval from Hotch and Gideon was the final piece of his application. Everything else from transcripts, essays, interviews, and medical reviews had been submitted to his recruiter. Once these forms were signed, it would turn into a waiting game. It was obvious, he mused, that neither one of the older profilers had actually believed him when he said that he was going to join the military. Without going into detail about the why he was applying, he had to show that he was serious about it. Gideon was the hardest to convince as he had gotten Spencer all sorts of waivers for the physical portion of the FBI Academy. It took Spencer reminding him that the waivers were only temporary and that since then he had been passing all of the physical tests to show that the Gideon's argument wouldn't hold water.

Hotch had been quiet, letting Gideon take the lead and just watching Spencer stutter out his request and information about the Navy, the Reserves, the Civil Engineer Corps (CEC), the Seabees, and even the current political climate. It had been almost unnerving how quiet he had been which is what had prompted the unsolicited rambles from Spencer. Even now he wasn't sure what it was that he had seen in Hotch's eyes but it was not something he had seen before. He would definitely be thinking on this again when he had more time.

A small alert from his computer showed that Gideon had emailed the completed form directly to the recruiter per his earlier request. "Hurry up and wait is right," he mumbled to himself as he started to shift the files around his desk and focus on work again.

BT

With application submitted to the board, there was nothing more for Spencer to do other than wait to hear back from the recruiter. So he tucked this adventure into the back of his mind and focused on the cases as they came and went. He had all but pushed the application out of his mind when he opened his email at work on a unimportant Thursday morning that happened to have the team in the office. As they had all been out in Tennessee for the past 4 days, everyone was taking the time to sort through emails and paperwork covering the desks. With most of the emails either answered or deleted, Spencer pulled up one and was surprised to see the brief message:

"Good morning Dr. Reid,

I have some fantastic news for you. You were "Professionally Recommended" for CEC DCO! Congratulations!

I am now looking for a billet for you.

Congratulations again!"

He wasn't sure if it was shock, excitement, or fear that had him rereading that message again and again despite it having already been burned into his eidetic memory. In a daze, he closed his email program locked his computer, stood, and made his way towards Garcia's office. Standing just outside of her door, he was still trying to work out his feelings when the door opened and he was knocked over by the figure rushing from her office.

"Reid! Why were you standing there? Are you ok?" Garcia rushed to ask as she checked herself over for injury and saw that Spencer was still sitting there with a dazed look on his face.

"I'm in," was all he could muster in response.

"You're in? What are you in? Are you in trouble? What's going on?" Worry was starting to creep into her voice.

"The Navy. I'm in the Navy. Well, I will be in the Navy reserve. I was selected by the board, I just saw the email this morning from my recruiter."

Garcia gasped. She had completely forgotten that she had talked Spencer into joining the military. Given how long ago it was and how he had not mentioned it to her or the rest of the team, to her knowledge he had dropped the idea completely. "You actually applied? Really? I didn't think you would go through with it." she trailed off as the actual ramifications of Spencer's application started to run through her head. Her sweet young genius, her Junior G-man was joining the Navy. "Have you told anyone else yet?"

With a shake of his head, Spencer replied "No, well, Hotch and Gideon know I applied but I didn't tell anyone else that I was even applying. I don't think I'm ready to tell them yet. Maybe after I'm actually in the Navy and have done something worth mentioning. Until then, I'll let Hotch and Gideon know since they are going to have to sign off on my military leave and so forth. Please, don't tell anyone else. I, I'm just not ready. What if I don't make it through the training? What if this was just a really bad idea?"


	2. Chapter 2

Battalion Life I

A glance out of the window showed a bleak October day. A small smile gracing his lips, Spencer turned away from the window to focus on the young man in front of him. The man, Spencer's recruiter, had his head down and was slowly going page by page and checking signatures, information entered, and occasionally asking a question based on the paperwork he was reading. This was the day that Spencer was officially joining the Navy as a CEC officer.

Truthfully, the experience was rather anticlimactic. He had researched the oath, the ceremonies, and everything he could get his hands on with regards to becoming a commissioned officer in the US Navy. What he learned after all of that was that as a reservist he did not get all of the pomp and circumstance. He had come to the recruiting office after leaving the office for the day, his recruiter had administered the oath, and now they were finalizing his commissioning documents.

So far what he had learned about his future in the Navy hadn't warranted the original panic he had felt upon hearing of his selection. Shifting awkwardly in the uncomfortable plastic chair, he started to run through the next steps in the process, mentally scheduling them around his known work commitments. First, he would need to affiliate with the local Navy reserve center or NOSC as they were called. Once done with that he would get to start working with his actual unit, which was, from what he saw on his paperwork, Naval Mobile Construction Battalion 23 out of Fort Belvoir, VA. Being in a unit that close to home would make keeping this part of his life separate from his work life that much easier for him. He also needed to get scheduled for his initial entry training up in Newport, RI and then the follow on CEC training out in California. There was a lot to do but it seemed very straightforward. That was a relief as it gave him some time to settle into this dual life he would be living and perhaps even reach a point where he could share this with more than Garcia.

And Hotch. Hotch knows.

Thinking of Hotch brought up some uncomfortable feelings, especially while sitting in this office. Sure, Don't Ask, Don't Tell has been in place for a while now, but Spencer still had no desire to be outed as anything other than straight while in the military. It shouldn't be that hard for him to keep it under wraps though, it wasn't as though he was dating anyone. The only person that he would want to date was not just straight, but married and his boss. Spencer wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize either his Navy or FBI careers despite how deep his feelings for Hotch ran. Better to just focus on what was happening now and worry about Hotch and everything else later. Yes, later was a good time and maybe by later he will have convinced himself that putting off these thoughts wasn't denial.

Interrupting Spencer's thoughts the recruiter finally spoke. "Well, Ensign, it looks like everything is good to go. Congratulations and welcome to the Navy! Oh and happy birthday!"

Battalion Life II

"DISMISSED!" The booming voice of the class officer ended Spencer's first annual training and experience as a Naval officer. He was still having trouble believing that his training was over. It wasn't nearly as terrifying as he thought it would be. After his time at the FBI academy, this was a pleasant experience. He had been working out regularly since being selected and so the physical aspect was surprisingly easy. The classroom portion, well, he had never had an issue with academics. The militarization was a bit difficult, but again, his training from the FBI had served him well. It also didn't hurt that most of his class was composed of doctors and lawyers, neither profession focused much on marching and formations which meant that his clumsiness and awkwardness were no greater than several other officers in the class.

Despite the dismissal, Spencer remained rooted to the spot and just watched his classmates as they congratulated each other and started filtering back to the berthing area to finish packing. He fingered the edge of his dress blue jacket and shifted awkwardly as he was able to relax for the first time this week. Even though the black jacket and trousers were tailored to his lean frame, he felt like an impostor. What had he done to earn the right to wear this uniform? Filled out some paper and played the game of avoiding the drill instructor's wrath? Not nearly enough by his reckoning. Men and women had died in and for this uniform and suddenly, joining just to prove he was a badass seemed like a very silly reason. Well, that reason might have gotten him to this point but it wasn't going to be that which kept him moving forward. He wanted to earn this uniform. He wanted to be judged worthy of the trust that had been shown to him.

He had a long way to go and standing there thinking wasn't going to get him anywhere.

Battalion Life III

This was definitely a bad idea. He was right, absolutely right those months ago when he was sitting on the floor outside of Garcia's office and wondering if he was in over his head. It was confirmed, he was. No doubt about it now.

He looked over at the parking lot where a group of about 40 sailors were gathering and back again at the petty officer talking to him. "Say again?"

"Sir, I was just trying to explain what you needed to do. As the Officer in Charge of this Detachment you will need to lead morning formation. Have you ever done anything like this before?" The sailor said with a look of distrust on his face. The new officer in front of him did not appear all that impressive. He was tall and skittish, his hair seemed a touch too long to actually be within regulations, and the nervous fidgeting he was doing with his hands did not bode well for his ability to inspire confidence. Shaking his head, the sailor started wracking his brain to figure out how he was going to convince everyone that this guy was not a joke.

"I have, I did my officer training a few weeks ago. I think I can handle this," Spencer replied while trying to take a calming breath. He knew he was nervous and he also knew that this was his first chance to prove to himself that he was worthy. This was very much outside of his comfort zone, honestly he would rather be sitting across from a serial killer right now but he wasn't, unless one of the sailors was hiding something. Maybe he could get Garcia to run some background checks, or not. He needed to focus and bringing work into this would not help.

"Copy that, Sir. I'll get them formed up and then you can come up."

Far too quickly for Spencer's comfort, the unit was formed and the petty officer did a smart about face and was waiting for him to come and speak to the Detachment. Before he could second guess himself any more, he straightened his back, squared his shoulders and walked with far more confidence than he felt towards the Seabees, his Seabees. That promise he made to himself back at DCO training was the only thing propelling him forward. These sailors were counting on him, on his leadership, to get them through not just the drill weekend, but a combat deployment if it ever came to that. He needed to show them that he would and could do what was necessary to get the mission done and bring them home safely. He could do this, he didn't have a choice any longer, he would do this.

BT

By the time that Ensign Reid called him front and center, the petty officer was in such shock that he almost missed hearing the call. He made his way to the front of the formation, saluted, and watched out of the corner of his eye as the very surprising young officer walked towards the building they used. The skittish officer had transformed upon facing the sailors. He spoke with ease and confidence. His introduction was short but surprising. He never would have expected him to hold multiple PhDs let alone be an agent in the FBI! Troops dismissed, the petty officer happily made his way along the same path that the officer had taken with a renewed spring in his step. Things were looking up as it seems like despite initial appearances, this new officer might just be more than he seems. Maybe it was a good thing that the other officers weren't here today, he doubted that he would have seen this side of the new Ensign with all the others running around and taking point. This new one definitely looked the type to fade into the background unless necessary.

This was trial by fire if he ever saw it. Hazing might not be allowed in the New Navy, but this was pretty darn close: putting a brand new baby Ensign as the only person in charge of a drill weekend full of Seabees. Yup, this unit was definitely going to get interesting.

BT

After leaving the sailors in formation, Spencer made his way into the building and to the men's head. While the petty officer was experiencing renewed enthusiasm, Spencer was throwing his guts up and praying he finished before anyone came back to the building. Everything had gone better than he expected but the nerves had finally caught up with him. "I can do this," he said to himself as he straightened his uniform. "I can do this. Formation wasn't so bad and now it is just paperwork. I can do paperwork."

A few calming breaths later, Spencer had convinced himself that he felt confident enough to leave the head and make his way to the desk in the corner that he had been told was where he should sit. Already a giant stack of paper sat on the center of the desk. A quick glance and he knew it was going to be a long day. Muster reports, SITREPs, special request chits, order routing, was anything done in the Navy without 5 forms filled out in triplicate!? Barely stopping himself from dropping his head to the desk in defeat, Spencer muttered under his breath that yes, this was in fact a very bad idea.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

BAU Life III

After Georgia

Spencer was shaking. His hands, his legs, his entire body seemed to be moving of its own volition. He wanted to stop the shaking, wanted to stop the pain, wanted to stop the memories, he just wanted everything to stop. He knew without any doubt that the needle in his hand would only stop everything for a brief period of time. Eventually, the shaking, the pain, the memories would slowly seep back into his reality. This isn't what he wanted, he thought as pushed the plunger down. This is going to ruin everything.

Everything would have to wait though because the shaking was slowing down, the pain becoming less intense, and the memories more distant. He could finally breathe and everything else would have to wait.

Battalion Life IV

After New Orleans

It was a miracle, he thought. He held the small plastic cup in his hand as he placed his ID card in a box and made his way toward the bathroom. He kept repeating to himself that it was a miracle. He had been clean now for 2 full months. There was no chance of any trace of the drugs still being in his system. That was the damned miracle. He might not readily believe in any particular deity, but the higher power that his NA meetings and 12-step program spoke about had to be real as it was a damned miracle that while he had been using, his name had been absent from all urinalysis lists at drill weekends and work.

While a small thing, the little cup of urine was proof of his strength and desire to get beyond what had happened in Georgia. This was his second chance and he wasn't going to waste it.

Battalion Life V

The first time that Spencer got to meet the battalion, he had just gotten back from a case that had kept the entire team chasing after ghosts for a week before the unsub had slipped up enough for them to make headway in finding him. Everyone on the team was exhausted and looking forward to the long weekend that Hotch was granting them. Unfortunately, with the jet landing in the early hours of the morning, Spencer had barely enough time to get to his apartment, shower, and changed before he needed to be running out the door in order to make it to Fort Belvoir. It was as he was rushing through the gate towards the parade ground where he had been told to form up that he thanked whoever might be listening that his unit was so close to home.

The parade ground sounded a lot fancier than it really was. A small set of bleachers to the one side and then a large open field. As he parked, Spencer could see that there were seemingly hundreds of men and women in the green and brown camo uniforms. He felt awkward and out of place in his khakis, but he had not been issued his woodland green camo uniform yet. A glance around the filed saw him zero in on a cluster of men, one of whom was also standing out with his khaki uniform. He made his way over to the group quickly and was pleasantly surprised to find that they greeted him warmly and that he even recognized one of the officers from his last drill weekend.

"Ensign Reid," the closest one said after returning Spencer's salute. "We have been looking forward to meeting you. Your detachment has been improving by leaps and bounds since you came on board. Come on over, we were just killing time before formation. I'm LT Adam Carlisle, call me Adam in situations like this. Over here is ENS Mike Jones and LT Angel Ramirez. Welcome aboard!"

"Thanks, please, call me Reid or Spencer. It is nice to meet you all," he said with relief as it appeared that no one was going to shake hands. "So, what happens now?"

"Well, now the fun begins. In a few minutes we will get formed up then the CO, CDR Nick Williamson, will say something before S3, that's the Operations Officer, LCDR Mary White, will order us to 'carry out the plan of the day' at which point we will be taking you over to supply to get you and Mike the right uniforms and then get you over to HQ to find out what you will be doing," Angel said. "I should probably mention that I'm the supply officer, S4, for the battalion so stick with me until you have all the uniform gear that you will need."

"Ok, I can do that. Um, is there going to be some way for me to get coffee at any point? I haven't slept in about 30 hours and I know I'm going to need some, and soon."

"Spencer, my man! Another coffee lover. I knew we were going be friends from the moment I saw you!" Adam said with a giant grin. "I know just the place, you are going to love it." The laughter that accompanied Adam's statement indicated that his feelings towards coffee were well known among these officers. Even Spencer found himself grinning despite his exhaustion and the strong slap to his back that had followed Adam's proclamation.

They didn't have time to discuss anything else as everyone was making their way to the respective companies. Lining up at the back of H Company with his three new shipmates, Spencer found himself slipping into a calm mood. This was what he needed after that case: something to focus on that had absolutely nothing to do with serial killers or the FBI, something that was physically and mentally challenging, something that was his and his alone. For the first time since he had walked through the doors of the BAU, Spencer felt like he was coming home.


	4. Chapter 4

BAU Life IV

"Alright! This is it, my last consult done. It is time to relax and enjoy two completely uninterrupted weeks. No serial killers, no kidnappings, no cases of any kind. As much as I love this job, I cannot wait to be back at my mom's doing absolutely nothing. What about you? What are your plans?" Derek said as he closed a folder and put it into the outbox on his desk.

Spencer had to think for a minute on how to respond to Derek's question. It had been almost 18 months since he had joined the Navy and the team still didn't know. How could he explain what he was going to do when he was going to be spending all of his FBI leave on orders? He hated lying to the team but he wasn't ready to let them into this part of his life. Maybe he could get by without telling the whole truth, just part of it. He just hoped that Derek wouldn't ask too many questions. "Well, ah, nothing too exciting I guess." He paused hoping that Derek would say something but when he didn't, Spencer blurted out the first thing that came to mind when he thought of his orders. "Camping. I'm going camping. Just going to go camping out in California. Why?" He tried to finish his response nonchalantly but inside he was ready to kick himself over how awkward that sounded. It was the end of January and the entire region was blanketed by snow. Why would he think saying 'camping' wouldn't raise questions? Even camping in California!

When Derek responded with laughter first, it didn't surprised him. "Reid, I just cannot see you camping. Have you ever done it before? You do realize it is the middle of winter, even out in California. The nights can get pretty cold out there. Are you going alone? Do you have the right equipment?" Concern taking over for the laughter in Derek's voice.

"Umm, no,no, not going alone. And yes, yes we will have appropriate gear. I do know the current weather conditions for our camp site. The average weather out there at this time of year can be likened to...you don't care. It will be fine. I won't be alone," Spencer sidestepped the question of his camping history and managed to stop himself from extolling the virtues of the weather in California.

"Be careful out there. We need you here, Ok?"

A small smile crept onto Spencer's face as he realized that he wouldn't have to explain any more. "Yeah, sure. I'll be fine. We won't be out long, just a couple of days. I'm also thinking of taking in some lectures while I'm in California."

"Now that sounds more your speed! I gotta run though. Stay safe, Pretty Boy!"

Battalion Life VI

Derek had asked if Spencer had ever gone camping before. While he hadn't actually answered that question, it did seem pretty obvious to anyone who knew him that it was Spencer's first time camping. As a very young boy, before his father left, he had managed to avoid that particular father-son bonding adventure even after being forced to join the boy scouts temporarily. After his father left, well, Spencer had too many obligations to consider such activities. So at the tender age of 25 Spencer was going camping for the first the fact that it was his first trip would surprise no one, what would surprise most was how excited he was for the trip.

He really would be going camping, Navy style, but not until the second week of his annual leave. The camping trip, or Field Exercise as it was officially called, would be the capstone to his Civil Engineer Corps officer training, CECOS. Similar to his previous officer training, DCO indoctrination, the focus of the first half of CECOS was on classroom studies. As an actual genius, Spencer didn't have much to worry about during that portion of the class. The second half though? That was the interesting part of the course. They would be heading up to Fort Hunter-Liggett for 5 days in the field, complete with tents and MREs for all their meals.

Having easily passed the classroom lessons, the only tasks remaining were gear issue and land navigation. Spencer was finding it hard to maintain his military bearing when all he wanted to do was jump up and down like a little kid. He was finally going to go camping. This is what he envisioned when he joined the military.

"Canteen, kevlar, vest, plates, tent, sleeping bag, gun cleaning kit, rucksack, poncho, anything else on your list?" The bored petty officer said as she stacked the gear on the table in front of Spencer.

"No, thank you! My unit issued my uniforms and we are going to the armory on Sunday morning for weapon checkout," Spencer began to babble, unable to stop smiling.

He was quickly cut off, "Well then, keep moving. There's a line behind you." It was a not so subtle verbal nudge and acknowledgement

Battalion Life VII

"You mean to tell me that not only will you promote next month but that it will happen ON your birthday? Becoming a Lieutenant Junior Grade on the same day that you turn 27? Oh, Spencer, that is going to be an absolutely EPIC weekend," Adam practically cackled with glee. "We have got to start planning now. I know you don't live that far away, but you are not going to be in any shape to go home that night so you will just bunk with me, unless you want to snag your own hotel room?" Seeing Spencer's head shaking he took it as a negative to the hotel room and not the entire enterprise,"Great, that's settled then. It is a good thing that we will be here that weekend. Can you imagine trying to celebrate all of this without us?"

"No," Spencer began but was cut off before he could finish his sentence.

"Exactly! No, you couldn't. So it is a damn good thing that we will be here on orders for the weekend. Ok, so a proper wetting down isn't going to be all that great given that we are reservists; the pay increase for this promotion isn't all that much. So it will be less wetting down and more just a party to celebrate you. Anyone from your real life you want to invite?" Adam paused for a moment to catch his breath after interrupting Spencer.

"No! No, I don't want to get a hotel room. No, I don't want to bunk with you because I don't want to have a party, and thus NO, I do not want to invite anyone from my real life because there is nothing to which to invite them!" When he was finished, Spencer noticed that Adam at least had the decency to look somewhat ashamed at bulldozing his friend into a party. Taking pity on Adam, Spencer continued "However, I would not be opposed to going out for a drink with the other junior officers that night. It is, after all, tradition. Did you know that this tradition was originally intended to involve activities that would add a patina to new rank insignia in order to make it look like the recently promoted officer had more time in grade than they actually had..." he let himself drift off as he could tell that Adam desperately wanted to say something and he had been well on his way towards a long winded ramble.

"Yes! I knew you would see it my way!" came the far too happy response once the rambling trailed off. "So here's what I've got planned..."

It was a lost cause. Adam was going to plan whatever he wanted no matter what Spencer said. Better to just go along with it, provided it didn't venture into the territory of illegal, immoral, or dangerous. Though how bad could a party be that was being thrown by and for engineers? Thinking on what he knew about Adam though, things could get very interesting very quickly. Spencer vowed that Adam and Garcia would never be in the same place if he could help it. The world would be doomed if they ever teamed up.

BT

The shrill beeping of the alarm clock cut through the heavy blanket of sleep. The generic ceiling and hotel features of the room were nothing he had not woken to hundreds of times before. The pounding headache, the dry, cottony mouth, and fuzzy memories were not something he was used to experiencing. With a groan, Spencer reached out and hit the snooze button, catching a glimpse of the blinking red numbers telling him that the time was just a few minutes after 5 AM. As he pulled his arm back into the relative warmth of the thin hotel comforter, he took a deep breath and tried to work around the headache to remember whatever he could from the previous night. Slowly, far more slowly than he would have liked, bits and pieces of the previous night floated to the surface.

Right, his promotion. His birthday. Adam's plans. Right.

He lay there trying to figure out how crazy things had been last night. Well, it was obviously crazier than he had thought it would be, after all he did wind up in a hotel room. A quick glance at the stationary by the clock confirmed that he was still within a reasonable distance of Fort Belvoir so he had that going for him. So what happened? It started with dinner at the O Club followed by going to a local bar for a drink before calling it a night. But there was something else, he was missing something, he had to be. It just felt incomplete and wouldn't explain how he got here to a hotel with one hell of a hangover. Not only was he getting frustrated by his inability to remember, but there was an itching pain that kept distracting him, it was more distracting even than his hangover. What was he missing? His eyes suddenly flew open, "Fuck..." and he raced towards the mirror outside the bathroom.

Pulling down the waistband of his boxers, the only article of clothing he was wearing, Spencer groaned in despair at what he saw. It wasn't a dream, it really did happen. Trailing his finger around the edge of the brightly colored ink now visible in the mirror, he stared at it with disbelief. A small, red diamond boldly extended for about 2 inches across right hip, just barely below where his pants would sit. Centered in the tattoo, the artist had used negative space to write the number 23 in a bold font. The pale skin of his hip did an admirable job in making the number appear to be written in white. Overall, the tattoo was about the size of his palm and should be able to remain unseen under normal circumstances.

"When have my circumstances ever been normal?" he grumbled as he reached that conclusion. "And how the fuck did they convince me to do this? I swear that I am going to kill Adam and no one will EVER find him." Adam may have quickly become a very dear friend but there were limits and getting him drunk and tattooed was pushing that limit. Besides, as much as he loved his time with NMCB 23, he had no desire to be permanently branded with this particular battalion symbol.

He spent a few more minutes examining the tattoo from every angle he could. Eventually he had calmed down enough to appreciate that it was well done, but not something he ever would have gotten on his was when he had another realization-"How in the hell am I going to explain this one at work?"


	5. Chapter 5

BAU Life VI

"Um, Hotch? Can I talk to you for a minute?" Spencer said cautiously, knocking on the wall next to the open office door.

"Reid, come in, close the door. What did you need to talk discuss?"

"Well, Sir, I don't know how to say this," Spencer said as he toyed with the hem of his sweater and stood awkwardly in front of the desk behind which Hotch sat quietly. "Remember a few years ago that you and Agent Gideon signed the paperwork for me to join the Navy?"

"Yes. You assured both of us that you would not let it interfere with the work here and so far you have followed through on that admirably. Has something changed of which I need to be aware?"

"Umm, actually yes. Umm...well, did you know that the Navy reserve has been around since 1915 and over time has changed back and forth from being strategic to operational forces. Ever since 2001 and the attacks on September 11th..."

"Reid," Hotch interrupted gently, "Get to the point."

"Yes, well, sorry. I got an email yesterday from my company commander that the battalion, including myself, will be deploying later this year," Spencer said, wincing at the anticipated blow up.

A pause, a response, "Deploying? For how long?"

"Well, we should be gone for about a year total, maybe a bit less," he started and then began to babble. "I know it is a long time, but under USERRA regulations and the FBI's own policy regarding military service, it can't be held against me. Regulations say that I must be able to come back to either my same or an equivalent position. I just, well, I just don't want to come back to an equivalent. I don't want to be off this team. This team is my family."

"Reid, Spencer, I know. Do not worry," Another pause. "I will do what I can to ensure that when you get back that you will be coming back to this team."

"Thank you. Thank you so much, Hotch. I know that a lot can happen between now and when I get back, but, well, thank you."

"You are welcome, Reid. You know you are a valuable member of this team. You are correct, we are a family. You will always have a place here." Reid heard Hotch's voice catching, stumbling over the words, almost as though he was stopping himself from saying something more.

Spencer nodded, his throat constricted with emotions he couldn't place. He didn't think it would be this hard, but something about telling Hotch made the possibility of his deployment a reality. He knew it was always a probability, but somehow saying the words made it more real, more dangerous, just more. He felt something bubbling deep within his chest, words that needed to be said but that were not coming to his lips; feelings that needed to be faced that remained unvoiced and unknown. Feeling overwhelmed, he nodded again and left the office.

Once outside, the door closed behind him, Spencer leaned back and took a ragged breath in. The unsaid words and the unacknowledged emotions were bleeding away, leaving him weak and drained. Heaving himself up from the door he made his way to his desk and started contemplating how he would tell his teammates. They deserved to know why he was leaving. They didn't deserve the lies and half truths that he had been telling them the past few years. Maybe it was time for all the secrecy to end. As he looked up from his desk to tell Derek and Emily, he stopped himself. Something was telling him that it just wasn't the time yet, soon, but not yet. He was willing to wait, to give himself time to understand what he was feeling before everyone started asking questions. He would wait.

BT

Derek held his hand as the ambulance sped towards to the hospital. Spencer tried to tell Derek what was going through his mind, he tried to voice his fear, his concern, his need to tell someone what was wrong with him. The anthrax though had taken too deep a hold on all of his systems. Each cough brought blood to his lips, his forehead was beaded with fevered sweat, and the words that fell from his lips weren't what he wanted to say. They were said with the right fervor, right conviction, but the wrong meaning. Words, language, the only way he could interact with the world with some semblance of normality was eluding him. He couldn't seem to force his mouth to form the right shape, to enunciate the correct syllables. With panic creeping into his fevered ranting, he felt Derek's cool hand to his forehead and rested back, eyes begging him to understand.

"Don't worry, Pretty Boy. This is just temporary. Rest, you will be fine when you wake up," Derek's voice was strained, a thin veneer of calm reassurance stretched over fear and doubt. It was his eyes, Spencer decided, eyes that showed the fear that was echoed in his own. He knew that so long as the fear was there that Derek wouldn't give up, wouldn't let him down. That small comfort, more than the words, gave Spencer the confidence to close his eyes and give in to the pain and fever that had been nipping at him since he had inhaled the spores in the laboratory.

As Spencer's eyes fluttered closed, Derek took a deep breath and began to pray.

BT

"You ate my jello."

The short sentence, barely audible and barely intelligible through the rough gravel of a throat raw from tubes and disuse, was the sweetest sound that Derek had ever heard. Choking back his tears, he grinned and responded to the accusation. "Well, you weren't eating it. I"m sure that one of the pretty nurses could be convinced to get you some more though."

"Ugh, water? I, calls, need to make," Spencer started trying to reach to get his phone off the side table where he could see it resting. Despite just waking up, he felt as weak as a kitten and couldn't even bring himself to lift his hand, it just jerked weakly against the blanket.

"Oh no, no phone for you. You don't need to make any calls there. I'll let everyone know you are up and about. You just lay back and get some beauty rest there, Sleeping Beauty."

Derek would certainly make calls, but he didn't know everyone to call. He had never told Derek about the Navy. He shouldn't have waited, now, now what was going to happen? Someone needed to tell his unit, someone needed to tell the Navy. He couldn't deploy now, he couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, what was going to happen to him now? Panic started to swell in his chest, someone needed to tell the FBI, would they let him keep working? Someone needed to tell his mother. What would she say? He couldn't think, he couldn't focus, all of his thoughts were jumbled in his mind and his sore throat wasn't letting him vocalize enough to ask the questions. As his panic rose, the beeping of the machines around turned frantic, a cacophony that was mirroring that which was boiling within himself. Before he could do anything else he saw someone come towards him with a needle and slide it into the iv tubing. He could tell the instant that the tranquilizer hit his blood stream, his panic started to ebb and his eyelids began to droop with a sudden loss of energy. All the frantic, confused thoughts started to slide away from him.

"Hotch, Navy, mom..." he mumbled as sleep overcame him.

BT

It was a great surprise to Spencer how quickly he seemed to bounce back from anthrax. After the first time he woke up in the hospital and had a panic attack, things went much better. He was more lucid the second time he woke and was able to talk to Hotch, who had been there instead of Derek. He made sure that Hotch had the right contact information for his unit and that he made the appropriate calls. He need not have worried about the FBI nor his mother as the first knew and the second didn't have the clearance to know. Hotch had taken care of everything while Spencer had rested those first few days. He wasn't sure he would have made it through his recovery without Hotch.

A month later and he was making his way, coffee in hand, back to his desk in the BAU bullpen. True, Dr. Kimura wasn't yet willing to sign off on his release to full field duty. She wanted to watch him for a few more weeks, see how he reacted to the cold winter weather they were finally experiencing before she did that. She had signed off on him returning to work though. The FBI was more than willing to bring him back to work from the office until he received the her permission. The Navy was a bit more reluctant. He would be in a medical hold for the next few months which meant no deployment with his battalion. While upset that he wouldn't be a part of what he had recently learned would be the unit's last deployment before it was decommissioned, he was happy that he would not have to deploy. He no longer had a deadline to tell the team about his service and it gave him time to clear some things up on his personal life, namely figure out what was going on between himself and Hotch.

Things between them were muddled and confused. There was something going on that was different than when he first started here. Hotch wasn't treating him like just a coworker any longer. Also there was an undercurrent of tension that thrummed continuously between the two of them. He knew that at least part of it was sexual for he had long ago resigned himself to the fact that he was in love with his straight, married boss. However, his straight, married boss wasn't so much married these days. Despite the divorce being a recent happening, since then there had been a noticeable shift in their relationship. Well, noticeable to Spencer at least. Hotch seemed to spend more time trying to talk to him and not always on work related topics. There were also small, subtle touches, a hand on the elbow to steady him or on the small of his back as Hotch came up behind him to look at the maps on which Spencer was working. The touches weren't large or grand, sometimes barely a ghosting of his hand against Spencer. Just the thought of some of those motions brought a shiver of desire racing through him. Perhaps the straight part of straight, married boss might fall the same way that married did. Spencer could only smile at that thought.


	6. Chapter 6

Battalion Life III

It was starting to creep Spencer out.

Every time he looked up from his not inconsiderable pile of paperwork in the HQ building, Adam would be staring at him. It had been happening all day and he was over it. "What is it, Lieutenant? What do you need?" He bit out the formality as they were still on the clock and Adam did outrank him, technically. Besides, Spencer still wasn't sure he was over the whole tattoo debacle from last year. He tried, he really tried to get over it but the bright red tattoo was not easy to forget.

"I'm trying to figure you out, Reid. You are inhumanly fast at paperwork, look like a strong wind could snap you in two, and yet do a credible job at Battalion PT. It is obvious you are highly intelligent but you are also able to read people better than anyone I've ever witnessed. I can't get a read on you myself and I've always prided myself on being able to understand people. I feel like even though I've known you for going on 2 years, I don't really know you at all. For example, what kind of food do you like? Where did you go to school? What music do you listen to? Hell, what do you do on the outside?" Adam said leaning forward across his own desk. "I have all these questions and it seems like no matter how much we talk or get to know each other, I never get answers. I'm trying to get answers."

Spencer closed the file he was working on and leaned back in his chair, thinking about what Adam had said while looking deeply at his friend for any micro expressions that would contradict the words. Seeing nothing but the open, earnest, curiosity that was his natural expression, Spencer replied carefully. "Huh, I didn't realize I was doing that. I tend to be a very private person in general and didn't realize I had kept so much back. I spend so much time with the team at work that it is inevitable that we learn all of that stuff by accident. You know, wearing a college shift, vetoing a restaurant, or borrowing someone's ipod. I have been taking it for granted that you would already know these things. I didn't realize I was so comfortable with you that I felt it all unnecessary to explain. I also didn't realize that by not discussing these topics that you felt I was avoiding you or refusing friendship."

"So it wasn't my imagination?" Adam pressed. "You really haven't told me anything. So how come I haven't picked up on it? I am usually pretty good at reading people. Heck, I can't even figure out what kind of engineering you do in real life."

The last comment caused Spencer to laugh, "That's because I don't work as an engineer. I have a PhD in engineering from CalTech but I am not an engineer by day, just on the weekends here at Battalion."

"You have a freaking PhD?"

"Well, I actually have 3..."

"Shit. I knew you were smart but seriously? You are 27 years old! What the hell do you do that you need 3 PhDs? Why would you even want so many?" Adam said, his voice rising in volume as he went on."Why didn't you tell me this?"

Looking at his friend with a small amount of guilt, "Umm..well, I didn't want you to treat me any differently? I like being one of the guys here. I like not having my academic history and intelligence hanging over my head as though it is all I'm good for. Like you said, I do ok at PT but if you were to ask my teammates they would say I am wholly incapable of it because all they see is my brain. It is really refreshing to just be me and have things I'm good, even marginally, that have nothing to do with scholastic achievements. I was enjoying that freedom and taking it all for granted that you could pick up on some of the more mundane topics. I really, really don't want to be treated any differently and don't want to lose your friendship. Please?" Spencer's final word was a barely whispered plea.

"Dude, what am I going to do with you?" Adam said shaking his head, deflated from Spencer's obvious discomfort over the entire discussion. "Let's blow this popsicle joint and get a beer. Over said beer you can tell me all about yourself, deal? Including how you managed to get out of the deployment this year. You have GOT to tell me your secret!"

Tentatively smiling again, Spencer nodded and began to pack away the paperwork on his desk, "Unfortunately you are going to have to wait on the deployment secret, you don't have a high enough clearance to know what happened."

"We shall see. I already know you are a lightweight with alcohol, let me see if I can get that secret from you DOCTOR Spencer Reid!"

BT

"So let me get this straight-you are some kind of genius with an IQ that is essentially off the charts, you have an eidetic memory, can read stuff at speeds faster than superman, and you have a whole handful of PhDs and stuff from schools like CalTech and MIT?" Adam started listing off as Spencer nodded and continued to stare into his empty beer glass, not quite sure when he had finished it.

"Yeah, that's about the whole of it," he replied. "And to answer your earlier questions, my favorite food is Thai, you know the schools now, and I work for the FBI as a profiler to catch serial killers and the like. Oh, and like I said, you don't actually have the clearance to know what happened to me to get cut from the deployment. Suffice it to say that I suffered from a severe respiratory infection of classified origins. Anything else you want to know?"

"FBI? Serial killers? Not a high enough clearance to learn about a chest cold? Fuck, I need another drink." Adam flagged down a waitress and ordered another beer for himself. A glance at Spencer's glass had him ordering him another one as well. The night was young and everything Adam learned just generated more questions about the enigma that is Spencer Reid.


	7. Chapter 7

BAU Life

Spencer woke slowly. Pain seeped in through the dark curtain of unconsciousness poking at him to acknowledge it, to suffer it. Before he even opened his eyes, he groaned at the bright lights, the glare of fluorescent light on white paint, white tile, white everything. It was too much and too soon when coupled with the stabbing and throbbing pain coming from his left leg. Unlike last time that he awoke in the hospital, there was no Derek, no Hotch, holding his hand and soothing him. He cautiously opened an eye, hoping to see someone, any familiar face, to explain why he felt like he had been hit by a truck. His gaze rested on nothing but the sterile white and metal finishing of the hospital.

Both eyes now open, he took stock of the situation. He was alone, obviously in a hospital, a curtain closed almost completely around his bed. He figured that this was some sort of recovery area. Had he had surgery? A quick assessment of his body concluded that it was highly likely. The giant metal contraption currently immobilizing his left leg added more evidence to his growing list. Confident that everything was under control he started to think back on what had happened, why he would be here alone. The team never left one of their own in the hospital alone. What did he remember?

He was shot. He was shot and then he had shot the unsub. The doctor. The living child. The confrontation. The grieving parent. The pain. The ambulance. The frantic pleas for no narcotics. The blissful peace of the anesthesia. And now, the pain, the recovery. It still didn't answer why he was alone. Yes, he had been alone when he had been shot, Prentiss had gone to see why Hotch wasn't answering his phone. Still, he was sure that he had talked to Garcia, or Derek, or someone since then. His mind still fuzzy from the surgery, he closed his eyes to concentrate and found himself slipping back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, he wasn't alone. The slumped figure in the chair was not who he was expecting to see though. Will, JJ's Will, his Godson's father, appeared to be sleeping in an uncomfortable plastic chair typical of all hospitals. This time when he awoke, the pain that he had felt needling him in recovery came crashing down on him. The numbing effect of the surgical drugs out of his system meant that he would swear under oath that he could feel every stitch, every cut, every clamp used to put him back together. He simply couldn't control the pained moan that slipped past him, startling Will awake.

"Spencer! You're awake!"

"Too loud. Everything hurts. What happened?" The words but a whisper from Spencer as everything seemed too bright, too harsh in the stark and impersonal hospital room.

"You were shot. Do you remember?" Was Will's quiet response, giving in to Spencer's pleas for soft sounds. "The doctor said the surgery went well but that you will be laid up for a while yet. You are going to need a lot of therapy before you get full movement again, but you will get it." This was said with a quiet conviction that Spencer didn't feel just yet, there was too much pain.

"Where is everyone else? JJ? Hotch? Prentiss? Derek?"

"Ah, well, uh..You see," Will suddenly seemed nervous.

Even in pain and still under the fog of surgery, Spencer could tell that something was going on to prompt this sudden silence. "Will, what happened?"

"It was the Reaper. He attacked Hotch. He stabbed him." At those words, Spencer felt his chest constrict with the icy grip of fear. His ears filled with the roar of his own blood and he couldn't hear anything that Will was saying. Was it too late? Had he missed his chance to tell Hotch what he felt? Was it over before it could even begin? "...Everyone's over with him right now. Prentiss is making sure he's got a security detail and everything."

The words finally pierced the fear gripping Spencer, "He's ok? Hotch is ok?"

A nod, "Yeah, he will be. Lucky bastard. Though I don't envy him. I don't think I could handle being away from JJ and Henry like that."

"What?"

"Witness protection. Haley and Jack are going in at least until the Reaper is caught."

Haley and Jack, the names rolled around in Spencer's mind for a minute. "Good, need to be safe, for Hotch," he finally mumbled out as faces and relationships began to connect despite the pain and drugs.

"Get some rest, Spencer. Everyone will be fine," Will said, patting Spencer's hand. Even though he didn't want to do so, Spencer felt himself drifting back to sleep.

Battalion Life

For all of the celebratory trappings, no one other than the youngest of the children were paying attention to the bright bunting and colorful signs lining the walls of the airplane hangar. The party decorations were remnants from the recent homecoming of a unit, who upon the successful conclusion of their rotation had returned home in celebration. Today, despite the festive setting, the focus of everyone present was on the grim reality that this party was not a welcome home but a goodbye.

Sitting off to the side, crutches laying next to his chair and left leg, complete with its metal brace immobilizing the knee, balanced on a second seat, Spencer looked out over the event. His body may have been still, but his mind was racing and his heart aching. He should have been saying his goodbyes and preparing to board that plane with the Battalion. Instead he was alone, the only member to not be moving forward. He looked at the officer who had been pulled from another unit to take his place. His throat was thick with guilt thinking about the young man who was leaving behind a wife and young daughter. Spencer couldn't stop the thought that it should be him going. No spouse, no children, no one to miss him like this other young man would be missed.

Even trying not to make it personal didn't help his thoughts. Wondering and worrying about the Battalion as a whole still brought questions. There was so much uncertainty and danger when heading to a war zone. Would the mission be successful? Would his friends and shipmates be making the happy return in a few months? Or would their reception be quiet and sober, with tears and flags draped over wooden boxes? The realities of combat and war hung thick and heavy in his mind, coloring his thoughts as he said farewell to the group of people who had become a second family to him.

Shaking him out of his thoughts, the sound of a chair scraping against the floor indicated that someone had approached him. A quick look confirmed that it was his friend, Adam. "Penny for your thoughts, Reid," he said sitting down.

"Gee, Carlisle, I didn't think I was that cheap," Spencer replied with a sigh. "The thoughts are nothing you need to be concerned about right now. Why aren't you off saying goodbye?"

"Oh you are that cheap and easy too. Besides, saying goodbye is exactly what I am doing, Genius. Did you honestly think that I would jump on that plane without saying goodbye to you? After all that we have been through? Sheesh, for a genius you aren't always smart are you?" Sitting back in his chair so that he was looking out on the festivities with Spencer, Adam took a deep breath and continued quietly. "I know that we joked a lot this year about how lucky you were to get that classified chest cold. I know that you were doing the paperwork to get the medical code removed so that you could come with us before you got shot. I don't get it though, you are lucky that you aren't going to would you want to go over there? I mean, I...you want to be there with me, with us, but...I'm glad that you are being spared this pain. Hell, I think I'm just a bit jealous of you. I don't think I want to go and I feel like a terrible person because of it. God, Spencer, I...I'm scared."

As Adam's rambling had gotten softer, Spencer had turned to look at his friend. When he did, he could see the tension in his face, the fear in his eyes, and the white knuckles as his hands were gripped tightly in his lap. It didn't take a genius profiler to know that his friend was truly terrified. " Small comfort though it may be, I want to be going with you. But Adam, not wanting to do something doesn't make you a bad person. Come on, what is it that is scaring you about this deployment? Is it the fact that you will be away from your friends and family? The fact that you might be hurt?" At each question, there was an almost imperceptible nod to Adam's head, until the last when his head snapped around to stare at Spencer.

"Yes, yes to everything," was barely whispered.

"Well, why come to me? I'm not going to be there, I can't help you. I'm one of those friends left behind, I can't control what will happen over there, I also don't have any pretty words to reassure you because I've never been in your position. I'm utterly and completely impotent in this situation, Adam," Spencer replied, his own, bitterness, fear, and anger leaching into his words.

"Why you? Because you do understand even if you say you don't. You have told me stories of your adventures as a big, bad, FBI agent. Were they all lies? You have been forced to hurt and kill and hell, look at you! You got shot in the fucking knee. You have been there and done it, facing this kind of fear even if you weren't wearing your uniform at the time. You also don't coddle me or anyone else. I know that your teammates at work do that to you and you hate it so you refuse to do it yourself. That is why I came to you. You won't lie to me and tell me everything will be ok. You will tell me the fucking odds of me coming home in a body bag. You are the only person I can turn to with this kind of stuff because you won't expect me to suck it up, you won't mock me for feeling this way, you will just give me the truth and let me keep feeling whatever it is I am feeling, without judgement. Why you? You are my best friend here."

Even though Adam's voice never raised above a normal volume, the force and conviction in his words stunned Spencer with their ferocity. He had never thought of his job with the FBI in terms of facing danger in the same way as facing danger with his job in the Navy. Adam didn't even know of every case, every danger, every injury that Spencer had incurred trying to do his job. He wasn't privy to each of the details of the lives lost, saved, and changed forever with each case. While it wasn't a direct comparison, he was beginning to understand why Adam had come to him; Spencer had most definitely been in mortal danger and his friend had not. He wanted someone who had been there, someone he trusted, to tell him that he would be coming home alive.

"I'm sorry," Spencer finally whispered. "There is no way to say that you will come home or that even if you do that you will be the same. Studies have in fact shown that any exposure to combat, even indirect, can result in PTSD and other psychological disorders. In fact, PTSD used to be called Battle Fatigue...ugh, sorry, I just, well, I can't tell you the numbers. I can't give you the odds for any one outcome or the other. I can't tell them to you not because I want to keep them from you but because I don't know them. I refused to look them up and refuse to calculate them even now because I know that as soon as I do, I won't be thinking about numbers any longer but my friends."

He paused to gather his thoughts, "I might not agree fully with you that I understand what you will be experiencing over there. For all we know you will stay behind the wire and the worst of it will be complaining about not enough hot water in the showers or crappy food in the chow hall. What I do with the FBI isn't like what you will do over there, but I do know that fear isn't always a bad thing. It sharpens our senses, the release of hormones associated with the emotion provide temporary but potentially incredible increases in speed and strength. I can also tell you that dying, well, it isn't as scary as you would imagine." Spencer could no longer look at his friend as he continued. "I never told you this and had never planned to tell you this no matter how close we are. Remember when I was on crutches because I had a broken foot? I never told you how I got the broken foot and because it was on a case, I can't tell you most of the details. What I can tell you though was that during that case the UNSUB killed me. It was an accident and he revived me, but for a few moments I was dead. It wasn't what I expected and it wasn't bad. I mean it wasn't good, I wanted and still want to live, but it wasn't scary like I had thought it would be and ugh, this is coming out all wrong. Umm..Look, I'm a scientist and don't buy into most religion, organized or not. Faith is personal but I have faith in you. You will get through this because you are strong, stronger than I think you realize."

Adam didn't say anything for a moment but when he looked toward Spencer, there was a tight smile on his face, "You died, huh? Does that make you a zombie? Will you eat my brains if I stay here too long?"

The laughter that rang out from the two friends seemed to echo and linger in Spencer's heart long after Adam had stood, hugged him awkwardly, and left to board the plane. Adam was joined by the other members of the Battalion, loading up several large military aircraft with their bags and gear. Before long, the planes were fully loaded. Those left behind were quietly being ushered from the hangar so that the planes could depart. Spencer, being in the military himself, wasn't asked to leave and so he remained, the lone watch stander for his Battalion.

As the planes took off and grew smaller along the horizon, he said a small prayer to whomever was listening for his friends and shipmates. "Fair winds..."


	8. Chapter 8

BAU Life

"You're my bitch now," Garcia grinned evilly as Spencer spluttered indignantly that as a doctor, even though he isn't THAT kind of doctor, he could provide a reasonable second opinion. His words fell on deaf ears and he was left to work the case from the confines of the FBI building.

Throughout the case, Garcia pestered him with questions about his time in the Navy. How was it going for him? Was he ready to tell the rest of the team? Was he dripping awards yet? What was it like? Was it like the movies and tv shows? Was their plan actually working? What did he do during all of his time? Did his Navy friends know he was FBI? She wanted details! To Spencer, it felt as though the questions were never ending.

"ENOUGH!" He roared at Garcia after having hit his breaking point. "I will tell the team when I'm ready and not a moment earlier. I have spent most of my time in the Navy either recovering from anthrax or this stupid gun shot wound. When I haven't been recovering, I've been in training of one kind or another. I've had to learn how to be an officer, how to work within the Naval Construction Forces, and how to be a military leader. There are no awards just for showing up. I'm not covered in medals and glory. I don't want to be anymore." He paused to take a breath. "It isn't like what we thought when we came up with this plan. Garcia, I will be forever grateful for your idea but it's changed, I've changed. The Navy is hard work and I've made amazing friends. They are like a family to me, just like the team here. It might have started off as a way to show Derek and everyone else how badass I am, but it isn't anymore. This is something I'd doing for myself now and I want to keep it to myself a bit longer. Is that selfish? Probably. It is my decision though and I'm asking you to respect that."

Garcia could see that she had struck a nerve with her friend and quite smartly remained quiet. That didn't stop her from thinking about what Reid had said. Sure, she could see the changes in him since he joined. He had more confidence, didn't mind speaking up more often, was willing to step outside of his comfort zone for the cases, and if it was even possible had grown better at connecting small details together. Thinking back to that pizza night when she had the crazy idea, it was like a totally different person was sitting next to her now. Yes, the Dr Who jokes and bad science puns were still there, but what had been a boy seeking a way to show off had turned into a man who didn't need to flaunt his talents. That didn't mean that her Junior G-Man shouldn't let his team know. She might stay quiet for now, but she wasn't going to let him off the hook THAT easily. She would find a way to convince him to tell the team. She hated keeping secrets from them and this one had been kept long enough in her opinion.

BAU Life

Spencer was incredibly relieved that life was beginning to return to normal. He was finally cleared, cleared by THAT kind of doctor, to resume flying with the team. He had already successfully handled one case and now they were en route to his second. The case seemed pretty standard for their line of work, multiple bodies had been found in similar locations around a particular suburb of Salt Lake City. A cursory look into victimology had brought to light that all of them were associated with the planning and lobbying for a large new government facility that was proposed for a nearby location. Finding this very promising connection had not done much as the number of bodies kept rising and doing so at shorter intervals.

On the flight, the entire team took the opportunity to read the files and bounce ideas around without onlookers. Initial brainstorming could only take the profile so far and eventually discussion petered out. "When we touch down Reid and JJ, head to the station to get set up, Rossi and Prentiss, head to the latest crime scene to meet up with the local crime scene techs. Morgan you are with me. We'll go to the ME's office to get the latest reports. Any questions?" Hotch said closing his folder and indicating that case work was done for the rest of the flight.

Upon landing, the team split to go their separate ways. Spencer was glad that he was paired with JJ for the moment. He wasn't sure if he could handle being paired with Hotch. He had been watching Spencer closely since he had been cleared to travel as though he still didn't believe that the clearance paperwork was authentic. Trying to do his job and simultaneously assure Hotch that he was fit to do it was exhausting. JJ, on the hand, she took his clearance at face value and let him work in peace wherever they set up their again, he didn't really want to do introductions and set up at the police station even with JJ. Spencer wished he could head over to the ME's office as he usually enjoyed speaking with them about some of the more technical aspects of their findings. Perhaps he should look towards biology or medicine for his next degree, he mused silently.

The drive to the station was done in comfortable silence. The two agents eventually pulled up in front of an unassuming building in the small suburb's downtown. It looked just like every other small town police station they had seen. Knowing that their arrival was anticipated, JJ and Spencer made their way into the building for the introductions and set up.

"Welcome to South Jordan, Agents. I'm Mark Daniels, Police Chief for this fair city. We are glad that you were able to come in on such short notice We want to stop this killer as soon as possible and we are just too small to handle this by ourselves. Salt Lake's department has offered help but even they are stretched thin right now, budget cuts, you know?" said a husky but fit older man who had been waiting for them at the lobby.

"Hell, Chief. I'm SSA Jennifer Jareau and this is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. We are glad that we were able to be here and look forward to doing our best to help you and your city. Is there someplace that we can get set up? A conference room perhaps? We have two teams out right now visiting the ME and the most recent crime scene. Dr Reid and I will get started here with any files and documents you have on the cases. We would also like to speak with those who have been working the case," JJ said taking the lead on introductions.

"Right, right, anything you need at all, just let me know. I'll make sure that you have access to everything on this case," the Chief continued leading them further into the building and to a surprisingly large conference room. "Here you go, this space is all yours. Just let Margie know what you need, she's the one at the front desk where you came in, and she'll make sure that you have it."

"Thank you, Chief. This will work well. Let's get started, Reid." With that, the two set out to get the BAU headquarters set up and operational. Spencer, still on crutches focused on tasks that could be done while sitting, namely the sorting of files and organizing the information available while JJ hung the maps and started piecing together the board. In what seemed like no time at all the other members of the team joined them and they were deep into the case and building the profile of the UNSUB.

BT

The case was proving to be more frustrating than they had anticipated. As each new lead led the team right back to the very classified building project, roadblocks and red tape began to bog down the investigation. Despite putting together a solid profile for the UNSUB, the nature of the project and those involved on all levels was inhibiting their ability to gain adequate background information to find suspects and rule out people. That lack of information was forcing the team back to the conference room at headquarters, poring over the information they did have in hopes of finding anything new. Everyone had their own files spread before them while Spencer was attempting to narrow the comfort zone of the UNSUB even more as they tossed out additional observations.

"Lieutenant Reid? Lieutenant Reid is that you, Sir?" a voice from the doorway cut through the tense conference room.

"Huh? What?" Spencer said as he awkwardly turned from the board towards the doorway and the voice. Standing in the doorway was one of the local cops. It wasn't one that any of the team had seen around the building recently, but it was obvious by the reaction that he was familiar to Spencer. Grinning brightly, he left the maps he had been working on and made his way towards cop. "Senior Watson! What are you doing here?"

The man, Senior Watson as Spencer had called him, laughed. "Well, Sir, I think the better question is what are you doing here? This is where I've lived and worked my whole life. Aren't you a long ways from DC? What are you doing in South Jordan, Utah?"

"I'm with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. We were called in to assist with the string of murders that have happened recently," Spencer replied as he shook the man's hand in greeting.

"That makes sense, Sir. I was surprised to see anyone from the old unit since I knew 23 had deployed. I'm guessing that the crutches there are why you are here and not with them. It has been a while since I was out your way. I got orders to 18 about 6 months ago."

As the two men continued chatting comfortably, the BAU team were sitting around the table staring at their friend. While it wasn't rare that someone on the team knew a member of the local law enforcement, it usually only happened in places where they had had cases before or where the team member had lived. This location fit neither of those criteria since all of the team's previous travel to Salt Lake City had not brought them this far south nor had any of them known Spencer to spend any time in this region outside of cases. What was equally odd was that the man had referred to Reid as "Lieutenant" and they could hear what sounded like military references. Rossi leaned back in his chair, listening, as he followed the conversation to the best of his rusty Marine abilities. As the picture became more clear to him, he turned to Hotch who had his head down and it looked as though he was trying very hard not to laugh at the confusion buzzing around the table. A nudge to his shoulder had Hotch looking at Rossi who raised his eyebrow in a silent question mouthed "military?" Hotch gave a small grin and mouthed the words "Navy Reserve" at his long time friend before focusing his attention down at the folder again. Both of Rossi's eyebrows shot up at Hotch's admission and so he turned to look at the kid again, this time with a touch more respect than before.

"Whoa there, Reid, want to let us in on the introductions?" Derek spoke up when he realized that neither one of the men looked inclined to pause their conversation for introductions. "I'm SSA Derek Morgan, who are you and how do you know Dr. Reid?"

As soon as Derek spoke up, Spencer felt the blood rush away from his face. He had so easily fallen into his Navy persona when talking with Senior Chief Watson that he had completely forgotten that the team was in the room. He had no way to explain how he knew the Utah native without telling them about, well, about everything. He didn't have time to think let alone overthink this as Senior spoke up quickly.

"I'm Bill Watson, I'm on the force here in South Jordan but I served with the Lieutenant here in NMCB 23 before I got transferred to a different battalion. I've been on vacation for the past week and was very surprised to see that the FBI had been called in while I was gone. I haven't been working the case, but I would like to help however I can," he said walking towards Derek to shake his hand.

Hotch intercepted Derek before he could respond and proceeded to make the introductions. "Officer Watson, nice to meet you. I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner and this is my team. SSAs David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and Jennifer Jareau. It appears as though you already know Dr. Reid. I am sure that you and Reid have a lot to catch up on but I'm sorry to say that for the time being we need him to be focusing on the case. We appreciate your offer of assistance and will happily take you up on it as the need arises. Reid? Back to work." Effectively dismissing Officer Watson, Hotch sat back down and waited for Reid to get back to the board where he had his geographical profile posted. Watson, taking the dismissal for what it was, gave a nod to Reid and left the room quietly.

Spencer made his way to the maps, mind racing in shock. He wasn't entirely sure how everything had happened just now but knew that the cat was well on its way to being out of the bag. He could also guess that Hotch had only delayed the inevitable by turning the focus back to the case. They would need to wrap up for the night at some point and he knew that would be when all the questions would come flying. Gulping, he looked around the team and saw from their expressions that he was right about this only being a temporary reprieve. Except for Rossi, Rossi had a huge smile on his face that seemed to be tinged with, pride? Satisfaction? Something that Spencer wasn't quite sure how to interpret. All of that would have to wait though, they had a killer to identify and stop.

BT

It was late when they broke for the night but it had been a productive day once their focus had returned. Garcia had been able to rip away some of the red tape and find a few names of people who were vehemently against the new facility and were trying to block its eventual construction. They were going to keep digging but the late hour had meant that their hands were tied until the next morning. Everyone began to pack up to head out from the station. As he shuffled papers from the table to his bag, it struck Spencer that no one had mentioned the odd conversation earlier in the day and that meant he might be able to avoid explanations and questions until the case was over. Just when he relaxed and started to calculate how late he could set his alarm and still make it to the SUVs in time to leave the hotel in the morning, Senior Watson stuck his head through the door to wish the BAU team good night.

"See you, tomorrow, Sir! If you need anything while you are in town, don't hesitate to ask. Also, when you are wrapped up, the Mess here would like to invite you out for drinks. There aren't many Bees in this area, but there are enough. Oorah!" He called and left before Spencer could respond. As he walked away, everyone again turned to look at Spencer.

"Boy, you got some splainin' to do," Rossi said laughing at his own terrible Ricky Ricardo impression.

Sending a pleading look to Hotch and seeing nothing but a raised eyebrow that told him that he was on his own for this one, Spencer let his head hit the table and mumbled into the files, "Fine. Give me coffee and I'll give you answers."

BT

Despite being a small town, it wasn't hard to find a 24 hour diner. The team piled in to the restaurant and with permission, pushed several tables together in a back corner for all of them to sit and ask questions of their young friend. Derek decided to take the bull by the horns and ask first, "Ok, Pretty Boy, start talking. What's all this with Officer Watson? What's going on?"

"I don't have coffee yet, so you don't get answers yet," Spencer snarked in frustration, trying vainly to push off the conversation even a few more moments. His timing was unusually bad though as the waitress reappeared with several carafes of steaming coffee and a tray full of mugs. Glaring at Derek as though it was his fault that the coffee was ready, "Fine, you win. Where do you want me to start?"

Hotch, who was sitting calmly next to Spencer, looked up from where he was preparing his own coffee, "Start at the beginning, Reid."

"Wait a minute, do you know what he is going to say, Hotch?" JJ interrupted. Seeing the Unit Chief's nod she continued "How do you know what's going on and we don't?"

"This is something Reid came to me about when it began. I am his boss and he needed to do things by the book. Everything is completely above board and I fully support him. You will too if you let him tell you what is going on," Hotch replied calmly while giving Reid's shoulder a light squeeze.

The casual touch of his boss and the warm look in his eyes had Spencer relaxing as he settled in to tell the story. "Well, um, do you all remember the Philip Dowd case a few years ago?"

"Wasn't that the one where you shot the guy with Hotch's back up? Right after you had failed your gun qual?" Rossi asked, not having been there but having heard about it.

Reid nodded. "That's the one. Right after I failed my qual, Morgan gave me a whistle to call for help since I had lost the right to carry. After the shooting, I gave the whistle back to him but it mysteriously appeared on my desk a day later." He paused to drink some coffee. "I wish Garcia was here. She was a big part of this. OK, umm. well...After getting the whistle back I was very upset and wanted to prove to everyone that I am just as qualified to be a field agent as everyone else on the team."

"Well, yeah, we know you are qualified. I mean, you might get some waivers for the physical stuff but you are good at what you do, right? I trust you to have my back," Prentiss commented with a shrug.

"You think I still get waivers?" Spencer said sadly.

"Yeah, I know you get them. You have been getting waivers for the fitness tests since day one at the academy. Of course, you are the brains not the brawn of the team so it isn't a big deal," Derek spoke up. "As team fitness lead I file them each cycle for both you and my Baby Girl."

"Do I, Derek? Do I actually have waivers on file for the cycles when I am not sick with a 'classified chest cold' or a gunshot wound?" Seeing the confused look on his face, Spencer kept going. "Derek, do you know why Gideon got the fitness waivers for me when I was at the academy? No? Well I think we need to start further back than I thought. Gideon got the waivers for me because shortly before I started I had contracted mononucleosis. Several of the symptoms I exhibited were severe anemia, extreme fatigue, and an enlarged spleen. All of these symptoms can extend for several weeks beyond the actual incubation and running of the virus within the body and would make it difficult if not downright dangerous to participate in extreme physical activities such as those done at the academy. Gideon was bringing me on board for a particular project, which I can't discuss, that had some very tight deadlines. I needed to be an agent in order to work on it though so he pulled strings to get me into class despite just getting over mono. The academy allowed it, waiving me through the physical portion on the condition that following my recuperation period and being cleared by my physician that I would be able to pass the field agent fitness test, and yes, that included the final obstacle course. I passed them that first time and every time since then. Meanwhile, I've been intercepting the waivers before they could get filed with HR."

"But, you haven't been doing the fitness tests! I administer them each cycle and you have yet to attend any," Derek argued. "That's why I keep writing up waivers for you."

Sighing, Spencer took a couple of long sips of his rapidly cooling coffee. "You don't see me passing the tests because I haven't been doing them with the BAU. I kept in touch with the fitness leader from Organized Crime who had done my first one and just worked with him to get subsequent ones scheduled for the next couple of years. At the time it was a good excuse to spend the afternoon with a friend. Now? Well, now I don't need to do the fitness tests with the bureau because I provide documentation of passing the semi-annual fitness tests for the Navy. The Bureau accepts military fitness testing in lieu of their own."

"Ok, so you are actually some sort of crazy good athlete but have been hiding it behind oversized sweaters and general clumsiness. That still doesn't explain what this has to do with Dowd nor with how you know the cop here," Prentiss said.

"I'm not really that amazing, but certainly good enough to pass the required tests. But, everything else? Well, it was all Garcia's idea. There was pizza, and Dr Who, and ice cream, and I'm pretty sure she got me drunk, and..." Spencer trailed off and got so quiet that his last few words were simply mumbled under his breath.

"What was that, kid?" Rossi asked leaning closer, a smile fighting to break out across his face. "Say it again?"

Glaring at Rossi Spencer mumbled something again. Rossi raised his eyebrow and Spencer slammed his now empty coffee cup down on the table. "Fine. I joined the Navy. Are you happy?"

His outburst was met with blank stares from JJ, Derek, and Prentiss. Rossi and Hotch were both fighting to keep from laughing at the situation and Spencer was just muttering to himself with his arms crossed in petulance.

"Kid, I think we would have noticed if you had joined the Navy. I mean, it isn't like you are off sailing the seven seas or something. And really, joining the military? You expect us to believe that? What would you do anyway? Even if you are able to pass the FBI fitness tests the military is a whole different animal," Derek commented.

"Well, I mean, yes I joined the Navy but I didn't join Active Duty which is why I am still at the FBI. The Reserve component has only a one weekend a month and two week a year commitment which allows for members to maintain civilian employment," Spencer blurted out and continued quickly, "I am a Direct Commission Officer in the Civil Engineer Corps. You see, the Navy along with the Army and Air Force have a process by which civilians who hold relevant degrees and experience in certain fields are able to obtain a commission, become an officer, in their respective reserve forces without having to attend either one of the college commissioning programs such as ROTC or the academy or even their officer training courses such as Officer Candidate School. As a direct commission or DCO as we are called, we are brought in as subject matter experts in our respective fields and serve in a variety of fields. The Navy mainly uses the DCO program as a way to gain individuals to meet their requirements in the Staff and Unrestricted Line Corps. In fact, it is only the Special Warfare community that will directly commission someone in the Unrestricted line community. Of course, they only commission those who are previously enlisted Special Warfare qualified individuals so it is a bit of stretch there but..Ok, bottom line is that I am an officer in the Civil Engineer Corps of the US Navy Reserve. I am currently assigned to Naval Mobile Construction Battalion 23 out of Fort Belvoir, VA. Officer Watson here is Senior Chief Equipment Operator Watson who was Alfa Company's Chief when I was the assistant company commander when I first joined. We worked together during our time at Fort Belvoir before he transferred. Oh, since I am in the CEC that means I don't get to go to out to sea or do anything really with the ships."

"Wait a minute, you really are in the military? You, Dr. Spencer Reid is in the military? I can't believe this. I didn't understand half of what you just said but I know you said something about engineering. Does this mean you sit in an office and design stuff? Like new weapons or ships? How does any of this even work?" Prentiss asked as she stared at him.

"I knew this was going to happen," Spencer muttered, his nervousness gone now that he had done the information dump on his teammates. Hotch, being the only one close by nudged him to keep answering the questions. "Yes, Yes I am in the military. I have the ID and uniforms and everything. I am currently a Lieutenant Junior Grade, that is the equivalent of a Marine 1st Lieutenant, Rossi. I'm still assigned to NMCB 23 but they are currently deployed and so I spend most of my drill periods at NOSC Washington DC doing paperwork . When the Battalion was in homeport and I was not injured I was the Assistant Company Commander for Alfa Company. Alfa Company is responsible for all the transportation concerns of the Battalion-we own all of the equipment from buses to bulldozers plus everyone to operate and maintain them. It gets a bit more complicated than that when talking about the Company, but that isn't all that I did. My background in mathematics and geoprofiling actually made me the ideal person to run the EMBARK team. So I also did that. Which did give me something to do, from a chair, to help the Battalion get into theatre. I know from what I just said that it sounds like I just sit around and analyze and plan, but I do so much more than that. I'm actually almost done with my stick time to get my dozer license. I would have had it already but then, well, it is hard to drive a dozer with your knee immobilized and a pair of crutches in the cab. " Spencer finished, smiling at the memory of the last time that he had gotten to work on his license. "Oh, and like I said, I don't work with the ships or anything like that. I have never even seen one up close."

"NMCB? You are with the Seabees?" Rossi asked. When he saw Reid's nod, he said "Well, that brings back memories. I doubt that you are doing little more than pushing paper when you aren't injured. Come over when we get back. I'll cook and we can talk. I'm sure you have read up on their history since you joined but I can tell you what they were really like back in my day."

JJ was just looking at him thoughtfully as she nursed her own cup of coffee. As soon as Prentiss and Rossi took a break to breathe, and before Spencer could say anything more, she spoke up for the first time since the story began. "Good for you, Spence. I have seen how you have changed since you started at the BAU and I thought at first it was just because you were getting older and more comfortable. It isn't that though, I think it was this. You seem to sit or stand a little straighter when you talk about your unit. You seem happy and proud of it, even if you also seem somewhat embarrassed that we found out. I think this has been really good for you."

Spencer was trying hard not to blush at how Rossi and JJ had accepted it, accepted this secret he had been keeping so readily. The weight of the secret was off of his chest and he felt like he was breathing easier already. Though, he did have to find a way to tell Garcia that he had been outed. She was going to be so upset that she wasn't here to see how everyone reacted. Speaking of reactions, Derek and Emily still seemed a bit upset over all of this.

"I still don't believe that for the past, what, 3 years that you have been in the military and we never suspected. I mean, Rossi and I get a pass because you were already in by the time we got here, but everyone else? Someone would have noticed. We are profilers for God's sake!" Emily said shaking her head. "How did we miss it?"

"I'm a profiler too. I know how to hide things. All those trips to Vegas to see my mom? Well, about half of them were to be on orders. My annual leave from work was arranged around my training schedule with the Navy," Spencer started to explain. He then remembered the best example of how he had kept it hidden from them. "Hey, Derek, remember when I took my annual leave to go camping in California? And I said I would also catch some lectures while out there? That was when I went out to do a course that for the first week was classroom based and the second week we were sleeping in tents at an Army base out there. I didn't lie at all, I did go camping with friends since my friend Mike was also in the class. And the classroom portion was composed primarily of lectures. When I told you that, why would you ever imagine that I was camping with an M-16 and tactical gear so that I could learn how to do a patrol in a combat zone? Even now you are having trouble reconciling the person you view me as with the person I am. I never lied to you but I also made sure that I didn't give you much on which to profile."

"Ok, so we completely missed all the small clues that would have told us something was going on. I have to ask though, Pretty Boy, why? Why would you join the Navy? Why would you not tell us? Were you ever planning on telling us? I'm not gonna lie, it hurts that you didn't and it almost sounds like you weren't going to tell us. I thought we were family," Derek said.

Taking his time to formulate his response, Spencer poured himself another cup of coffee, adjusted the sugar level, and sipped quietly for a moment. He was very conscious of the fact that everyone was still looking at him, waiting for his response. Having stalled as long as he could he answered "The why, I've already explained. I wanted to do something that would show everyone that I was just as capable at the physical as everyone else on the team. That I did have skills that could be leveraged in the field, that I could be a field agent and not just a human computer spitting out connections and geographic profiles. As Garcia would say I joined so that one day I could come walking into the bullpen in uniform and have you stare in awe at how much of a badass I am. Why the Navy? Well, the Navy gave me a lot of options that the Army and Air Force didn't. Since the Marines don't do direct commissions, they weren't really an option. I had originally gone to the recruiter thinking I could work in the intelligence community but the recruiter suggested I try the CEC because I have the engineering PhD. As I learned pretty quickly though, Seabees stick to dirt so it really is more like the Army or Marines than what people think of when they think of the Navy. Really, I don't and won't go to sea." A sip of coffee and then "As for not telling? Well, at first it was because I hadn't achieved my goal of having definitive proof of how amazing I am. Then, as time went on my reasons for staying in started changing, I started changing. I realized that I enjoyed what I was doing and with whom I was doing it. I had friends who with whom I could talk and conversations didn't automatically default to serial killers or crime scenes. I didn't have any expectations put on me that weren't on everyone else around me. I wasn't the young genius at Battalion, I was just another junior officer learning his place and how to do the job. It was refreshing and exhilarating and I felt like I was making a difference. I was making a difference and no one needed to die for me to do so. It took a long time before I told my friends at Battalion about the team and what we do here. Oddly enough, I hadn't planned on telling them when I did either. Carlisle got me drunk and that is what got me to tell him."

"So you are saying that we should have gotten you drunk? Seriously, Spence, were you going to tell us? I mean, I'm thrilled that you have this in your life but it hurts. What if you had gotten hurt? And who is Carlisle?"

"I'm sorry, JJ. I was planning on telling you guys a while back. My Battalion is deployed right now and I was supposed to be with them. When word came down about the deployment, I knew I would have to tell you everything before I left. Then I proceeded to get sick and shot during our cases. At that point it seemed silly to tell you when nothing had really changed and I wasn't going anywhere." He shrugged. "I thought I would tell you when it became necessary to do so. This, this was unplanned. Carlisle? That would be LT Adam Carlisle, one of my best friends in the unit. He is essentially the Garcia of the unit and I should say now that I vowed to never let them meet. Yes, there is a story to that vow and no, you are not hearing it. It is personal."

"When it becomes necessary? Hotch, are you listening to this?" Derek said incredulously.

Hotch responded impatiently, "Yes, I am listening to this. I remind you that Reid has kept the appropriate parties, namely the bureau through me, apprised of the situation since the beginning. I fully support him in both his service and in telling or not telling others as he chooses. Now, will this cause any problems for the team? I know you are upset but take some time and think about this. Reid is an adult and not required to share every aspect of his life with anyone. Any further questions or can we head to the hotel to get some rest before we need to be back at the station? No? Good. Let's go."

With Hotch ushering everyone from the diner signaled that the topic was closed for debate and discussion as a team. Everyone knew that as individuals they could come to talk and ask questions, but team discussion was finished and Spencer could relax. They were upset but had already started to reconcile this new information with what they thought they knew of him. The next few days would be filled with case related discussion and his personal venture of his would be tucked behind, waiting until other more important matters were resolved. By then, the rush of anger and hurt would be ebbing and life would have found a new normal. This new normal would let Spencer slowly invite his BAU family into the other side of his life with first with pictures and stories and maybe, just maybe, inviting them when families are welcomed to events.

With the weight of his secret off his shoulder, Spencer went to sleep for far too short a time to be as refreshed as he was when his alarm sounded in the morning.


	9. Chapter 9

Personal Life

He shivered and shifted uneasily in the dull rain that fell softly around him. The damp cold was bothering his knee, making him grateful for the cane on which he was leaning. He had come here to pay his respects but it was more difficult than he anticipated. Spencer hated playing the games of social propriety and funerals were no exception. He hated being forced to show the socially anticipated emotions of grief and sympathy when that wasn't what he was actually feeling. Right now, all he felt was anger and he he was practically vibrating with the need to show that.

He was angry at Shaunessy for taking the deal from Foyet originally.

He was angry at himself for being injured and unable to help Aaron find Foyet faster.

He was angry at Aaron for pushing away everyone who wanted to help.

He was angry at Foyet for all of the damage that he had inflicted.

He was angry that Aaron was mourning a woman who had ripped his heart out and taken his son from him.

He was angry at the US Marshals for not being able to protect Haley and Jack.

He was angry at Haley for not listening, for not trusting Aaron and by extension the team, and for always thinking she knew best.

By the time that his mental list had hit Haley, the rush of anger that he had been using as a shield as they had closed in on Foyet was slowing, leaving him raw and vulnerable with the anger simmering just below the surface. He shuddered as he realized that he had not felt like this since Hankel.

Intellectually he knew that the anger he felt was taking the easy way forward. It was simple to assign responsibility for this whole debacle and pass it around until everyone bore some of the blame. It was easy to then hate everyone that was to blame. It would be so simple to take that anger and hate and give in to them in all their primal glory. It would take no effort to use those feelings to justify isolating himself and pretending that it was for protection. It would be simple to convince Aaron that he should do likewise. It would be so simple to not only allow but encourage them both to wallow in anger and hate. Intellectually, he knew the futility of moving down that path but emotionally he couldn't feel that there was anything wrong with it. Hell, if he was being brutally honest with himself, Spencer wasn't sure if he deserved more than the lonely, hollow, and bitter existence that giving in would produce, but Aaron did. Aaron deserved far more than becoming a shell of a man, burnt out by emotions and experiences no one should have to endure. He wasn't sure if he himself wasn't already heading down that path but he didn't want to pull Aaron along with him. Aaron deserved more, much more than what the anger and hate offered.

So here he stands, playing the game and plastering a sad smile on his face, murmuring words of condolence and sympathy to Haley's family and friends. He would do this for Aaron. For Aaron he would refuse to take the easy route, he would do more and be more.

BAU Life

"Hey, Reid, did you see that your lady friend has a new movie coming out?" Derek asked casually as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Mmm, she mentioned she had been working on something big recently but did not want to let too much information slip, something silly about jinxing the project. There really is no significant scientific proof of jinxes let alone that merely speaking of a particular," Spencer started before getting cut off.

"Hold on, no need to get into science there, Pretty Boy. I need you to backup a minute, 'she mentioned'? Does that mean you are still in touch with her?" Derek interrupted him. "You need to start talking. And not about jinxes or scientific proof!"

Having poured his own cup of coffee, Spencer leaned back against the counter of the break room while trying to decide whether or not he should continue discussing the historical and scientific aspects of jinxes or just give in to Derek's how rare it was that the entire team was caught up with work and consequently spending time relaxing in the break room, he settled on answering under the conditions set forth by Derek. He figured a direct answer might also sate the curiosity that was pouring off of Rossi and Emily who up until now had been chatting on the other side of the room. "As you are well aware, after the case on which we met I was rather conflicted as to whether or not I should reach out to her. After a few weeks of debating the topic, I decided to send her an email. To my surprise, she responded. Since then we have kept up a relatively active correspondence. Admittedly, it is difficult at times for both of us, her shooting schedule can change dramatically from day to day and we all know how fast our schedule changes. Regardless, we have become quite good friends."

"I think I missed something here. Hey, Rossi, do you know who they are talking about?" Emily asked.

"Not a clue. I think it was before my time and yours," Dave replied as he got a refill of his coffee before returning to the small table with Emily to watch what was turning into a most interesting conversation. "Would you care to let us in on this secret pen pal of yours, Reid?"

"Nothing secret about it, they were all over the tabloids at the time," Derek started.

"And no one remembers what is printed in that trash, Derek," Spencer chided gently. "A few years ago while Gideon and I were out in LA instructing the local PD in some profiling techniques, we caught a stalker turned serial killer case. At one point I was left to guard the woman who was being stalked and she tricked me into the swimming pool where she proceeded to kiss me. Photos of that eventually made the tabloids as Derek mentioned, but it was nothing. Her feelings at the time were all transference just as I had tried to explain. She wouldn't admit to that though and tried to convince me that I was in love with her. She eventually realized I wasn't going to drop my life and run away with her after only a few days, She had to settle for giving me her contact information which, as I said earlier, I used after a few weeks. I reached out and we have been friends and ONLY friends since then. It really isn't that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal? Reid, you do realize you are talking about being BFFs with one of the biggest Hollywood starlets, right? I mean having Lila Archer's personal email address alone is enough to get the paparazzi to stalk you!"

Rossi's eyebrows rose as Derek spilled the name of Reid's friend. Reid, to his credit just shrugged and kept drinking his coffee. It was Emily that voiced the skepticism that Rossi was feeling. "Let me get this straight, you, the skinny, smarter than he has any right to be, Doctor Spencer Reid is friends with Lila Archer? As in THE Lila Archer? Who has been making headlines almost daily for the past few years? As in, Oscar winner Lila Archer? THE Lila Archer? You have got to be kidding me."

"Believe me or not, your choice. If you know this much about her surely you know that she is an outspoken activist against stalking; even going so far as to petition various levels of government to change laws that protect the stalker. She is an activist because of the case that we worked. If you need more evidence, I have a copy of the tabloid Derek mentioned. I don't see why it matters though. She is a friend. Just a friend. Should it matter what her profession is or mine?"

"Not when you put it that way, Kid," Rossi said. "It's good to have friends, better to have options. Don't discount her as more than a friend just yet."

Spencer just hummed noncommittally in response. He truly valued Lila's friendship and didn't want 'options' with her. After several years of friendship, they had opened up to each other about their feelings for one another and other people. Lila had eventually come around to realize that Spencer had been correct, her feelings for him during the case were based almost entirely on seeing him as a knight in soaking wet sweaters. It had also helped her to come to grips with the concept of transference when he told her that he was gay. That admission had added an interesting dynamic to their friendship. Working in Hollywood there was no shortage of men that were attracted to other men and she had made it her mission to find him the perfect man. Spencer was not too fond of that idea though as he was not out of the closet in very many circles. Not only was law enforcement a rough field to work in as a gay man, but the Navy was still deeply entrenched in "Don't ask, Don't tell." It simply wasn't worth the heartache or headache to be out at this time in his life. He knew that he would eventually have to come out but was perfectly content with things the way they were right now, even if Lila didn't believe him.


	10. Chapter 10

BAU Life

Aaron Hotchner was back.

In a small community like Quantico and the even smaller sub-community of the FBI agents stationed there, when something big happened it didn't take long for word to spread. Almost immediately after he went through the main security gate, the news of his arrival was spreading. It wasn't often that one of their own was as suddenly infamous as Aaron Hotchner. While the details were classified, everyone knew that he had killed a man with his bare hands. That the man was a serial killer who had just killed his wife and was about to kill his son were almost inconsequential details. With that kind of notoriety, everyone had an opinion on just about every aspect of his life. Right now, the biggest bets were on what he would do next. Opinions were split almost exactly down the middle with regards to SSA Hotchner's next move: on the one side were those that were betting that he would be back, no matter what. The other side contended that he wouldn't come back or that he wouldn't last long if he did. Right now those on the former side were winning all of the office betting pools.

Oblivious to the chatter spreading about his arrival, Hotch continued with his normal routine. Cleared from security, he made his way to the parking garage, entered the building, stopped for a cup of coffee at the coffee cart, and then made his way towards the BAU offices. It didn't take long for Hotch to be on the elevator heading to the 6th floor. With a quiet ding, the elevator doors opened and he began his trek through the BAU bullpen and to his office.

Looking up from where he was working, Spencer saw Hotch stepping into the lobby of the BAU section. He looked as though this was any Monday morning and not his first day back after the events of the past few months. His suit and tie were impeccable as always and he carried himself with his usual calm sense of purpose. To anyone looking, Hotch had done the impossible and flown through the stages of grief, going straight from denial and anger to acceptance in just shy of 6 weeks. To Spencer and the team, who knew him and his tells, they recognized that he had not settled into acceptance but moved beyond that to relief. It was as though removing the killer and the ex-wife from his life had released him from bonds that no one had noticed. The man striding through the office looked focused and determined without any undercurrent of panic or fear. He looked strong, self-assured, and as though he was finally meeting all of his own needs and desires. He looked happy and relaxed.

For Spencer, seeing the changes in the man from a mere two months ago was startling. Back then he was a man possessed, focused solely on finding Foyet, saving his family, and slowly being eaten away from the inside out. He was an empty shell of an agent, working long hard hours and pushing everyone else to do the same. Now? Well he was still incredibly focused and determined, he was still dedicated to the job, and he was still wearing his "Hard-Ass-Hotch" expression. Underneath all of that, Spencer could see that there was a happiness that wasn't there before. Heck, he wasn't sure that the way Hotch was walking couldn't be considered skipping for how cheerful he seemed.

Seeing him so relaxed and happy that he was all but skipping was refreshing though. When Spencer had first noticed the changes in the days following Haley's funeral, he had worried that it was an overreaction to grief and more than a touch manic. He thought that Hotch was so relieved to have his son alive that he would turn his not inconsiderable focus on Jack and solely on Jack while letting himself get lost again. As the days passed though, Spencer came to realize that the manic edge he saw was was simply the initial outpouring of emotions which Hotch was not used to expressing. The more time that Spencer spent with the father and son, it became clear that Hotch was giving way to Aaron. Aaron was a man who was learning how to handle emotions and complicated situations. He was a man capable of moving forward and finding peace. Hotch was uptight and enslaved by duty and obligation, Aaron was a man who knew how to find balance without bondage. Aaron was finally free.

Now, Aaron was making his way towards the team, giving Spencer a small smile and placing his hand on Spencer's shoulder as he leaned in to see what everyone was huddled around. When he felt the strong hand, warm on his shoulder, Spencer released the breath he didn't know he had been holding. The warmth spread from his shoulder and into his chest causing his heart to flutter briefly from the innocent gesture. That the hand remained on his shoulder, squeezing gently when the team huddle broke apart to move towards the round table for a briefing gave him all the proof he needed to know that everyone was moving forward.

Battalion Life

Spencer glared at the punch in his hand as though it was the root cause of all his problems. He didn't want to be partying but he was on orders and this event was considered mandatory fun. His time in the military had quickly taught him that mandatory fun was always the first and rarely the second. This was a perfect example of that, participation required and nothing that he would consider fun. As much as he was looking forward to seeing his friends arrive home, that is also how much he did not want to be there. Watching happy reunions while he was off by himself was not something that he relished. If he couldn't have his own happy reunion then he wanted to at least be with his team. He wanted to be there, working the case, finalizing the profile, and stopping the killer but he wasn't there, he was here. And he wasn't happy.

The worst part about the situation was that he had broken his promise. When he had approached Gideon and Hotch with the crazy idea of joining the military, he had promised that he would never let it interfere with a case. He snorted, that promise only lasted about 3 years. Now, he was obligated to execute these orders while the UNSUB was still running around killing people. Not being able to be with the team wasn't stopping him from trying to help. He had spent all morning sending his thoughts and ideas to the team via text.

After setting the punch down, he reached for his phone. Looking down at this phone he frowned because all he was getting back were curt messages that essentially said 'stop texting us about the case. Go play Navy.' With a huff, he shoved his phone into one of his pockets. Feeling a touch of self pity at being rebuffed, he decided that he could be a bit selfish, at least for the rest of the day. If they didn't want his help, he wouldn't give it. Instead he would focus on the party at hand and worry about the case once he was assured that his shipmates were home and safe.

Thankfully, Spencer didn't have long to wait to get that assurance. A few minutes after he put his phone away, he saw that the base personnel were moving everyone to a staging area in preparation for the aircraft arrival. Joining the family members and other attendees a safe distance away from the tarmac, he waited patiently for the chance to see his Battalion again.

As he looked around, he realized he was the only one waiting patiently. The children were bouncing around excitedly, feeding off the energy and anticipation of the adults. The adults were more focused on the aircraft taxiing towards them but most couldn't help but fidget with excitement. The planes slowed down as they moved closer to the decorated hangar. By now almost everyone was waving flags and signs for their loved ones, hoping to be seen and reunited as quickly as possible. Spencer smiled as he read the poster boards and banners. He recognized a lot of the names and was rather impressed with some of the creativity in artwork and messages. Surprisingly, despite seeing so much in the course of his work, he was blushing to read some of the racier posters!

The overall feeling of happiness and anticipation wasn't doing much to prevent Spencer from dwelling on unhappy thoughts despite his desire to do so. Seeing the families together to welcome their loved ones hurt. He couldn't help but think, if he had not been shot, who would have been waiting for him when he returned from deployment? Would he have had anyone? His mother would never be able to handle the travel and even if she did, there was no guarantee that she would have a good enough day to understand what was happening. Would his BAU team have come for him? He wasn't sure that anything Garcia would put on a poster would be appropriate with children in the area, but would she probably would not be there anyway. They were his friends, certainly, but cases always take priority. If this was his homecoming, they wouldn't have been able to attend. They were several states away and working feverishly to find the UNSUB. Even Garcia, who stayed at Quantico to work her magic, would be too busy to attend. Standing in the very crowded staging area with these thoughts, Spencer felt very alone.

He didn't want to be alone. Despite being somewhat of an introvert, he still craved family, friends, and above all, a partner. He wanted someone to be waiting here for him when he did deploy. If he was going to be honest, it wasn't just anyone but a particular someone. His feelings for this someone had started a long time ago and were exceedingly complicated. It was only recently that he had begun to realize that they could possibly be returned. Reciprocated feelings might make some of the complications easier to handle but he had no definitive proof of mutual attraction. Oh yes, Spencer had caught him looking at him, touching him more often than necessary, and extending the physical contact when it was made but that wasn't proof! Spencer needed proof before he could say or do anything. He was also well aware that being attracted to Aaron, to Hotch, to his boss was much more complicated than just fearing rejection and that is why he was keeping his mouth shut, signs or no signs. He needed Aaron to make the first move.

Despite the complications, he still wanted Aaron to be the one sending him off with a kiss and waiting with open arms when he returned. Spencer wanted this, he wanted to try. He wanted to see where a relationship with Aaron would take them. He didn't care about the difficulties or perception, he just wanted to be with Aaron. Was it too soon though? It felt too soon to broach the subject with him. No matter how happy and carefree he had been since returning to work a few weeks ago, it was still only a few short months since he had buried his ex-wife and the mother of his son. Jack, oh shit, Jack. That was another complication. While he had gotten on well enough with the young boy during various team picnics and events, stepping in as his father's boyfriend was a completely different matter. Would Jack feel like he was trying to take Haley's place? Was he trying to take Haley's place? Would Aaron even want him around Jack? What about the 'Reid Effect'? Was it going to...

His mind kept going come up with questions and fears and he couldn't stop it. He was spiraling, he could recognize it. He needed to stop himself before he went too far down the rabbit hole of what ifs and maybes and whys. Right now he was only answering his questions with more questions. He needed to stop, to breathe, to let it go, and to focus on something else, something productive, something unrelated...something like the fact that the planes were fully stopped and unloading the passengers now. Spencer forced himself to put all thoughts of Aaron and Jack, relationships, and loneliness to the back of his mind. His friends were home and that needed to be his focus now. He closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply. In and out, in and out, over and over. Once he felt his heart rate slow down to within a normal range, he tried to focus on topics completely unrelated to his previous train of thought: random bits of Navy trivia, the current weather, and basically anything but his...well, his Aaron. What seemed like an eternity later, he finally felt focused enough to open his eyes and pay attention to the party at hand.

He had been so caught up in his thoughts that he completely missed the Battalion forming up in front of the waiting crowd. He even missed the brief welcome home and thank you speeches. He now found himself watching as the CO dismissed the Battalion to return to their families. At the word, the entire battalion scattered and the families took that as a sign to rush towards their loved ones. Despite his dark thoughts of earlier, he couldn't help but smile as he watched all of the happy reunions. There was hugging, kissing, jumping up and down, and it was beautiful. In his line of work, he rarely got to see such unfiltered joy. Sure, there were the good cases, the saved lives, and happy reunions, but those always took place amidst so much other death, pain, and darkness that even the brief moments of joy were tempered by reality. To be here, to witness the happiness without the darkness at the edges was borderline overwhelming for him.

Even though he was enjoying the scene before him, Spencer knew that he wasn't fully part of the homecoming. He turned around and headed back towards the hangar to see if he could assist in any of the last minute tasks involved with the arrival. As the 'rear echelon embark officer', fancy title to mean little more than he was left behind to handle any details of the travel arrangements, it was his duty to handle paperwork and ensure that all i's were dotted and t's were crossed right now. As he was nearing the door to the office at the back of the hangar, he felt someone jump on his back.

"LIEUTENANT REID! YOU CAME!" the familiar voice of his friend, Adam, shouted into his ear.

"Get off me you jerk!" Spencer said laughing. "And stop yelling in my ear. I'm not wearing the proper protective gear for such loud noises!"

Spencer turned around and hugged his friend tightly. "Welcome home. Why aren't you off with your family? Isn't this when you should be getting mobbed by your parents and siblings? Your girlfriend?"

Adam's smile faltered slightly as Spencer spoke. "My parents and siblings couldn't make it. Dad had to work, Mom didn't want to travel alone and everyone else was busy with their own families. As for the girlfriend? Well...let's just say that I got a 'Dear Adam letter' about 2 months into deployment. It's ok though, I expected it which is why I didn't say anything when we talked. So, you, my dear friend, are my welcome home party whether you knew it or not."

"I was not prepared for this. I don't know how to be a welcome home party!" Spencer was frantically running through the list of things that he felt he should have prepared. None of them seemed appropriate for their friendship, either too much or too little. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"Dude! Slow down, I can see the wheels turning in that big old brain of yours. Relax. No pressure. I'm home and there was someone that seemed happy to see me, that's good enough." Adam put his hands on Spencer's shoulders to stop him, at least physically, from his guilt trip. "Just take me out for a drink, Sailor." Adam winked at him causing both of them to laugh and break the tension.

"As you wish," Spencer said. "Though I am a bit worried. Last time I went out for a drink with you I woke up alone in a strange hotel room with a tattoo." He turned to glare at his friend. "No more tattoos. I mean it!"

"Are you still holding that against me? Really? What's one little tattoo between friends? Now come on, chop, chop! I am back, fresh from the desert and my thirst needs to be quenched. I need a drink!" He turned to glare back at Spencer, "Seriously, deployments are totally dry. I never considered myself a heavy drinker until I realized that once we got to the sandbox that I would not be having any alcohol until we returned." He paused for a moment, "At least I'll be a cheap date tonight!"

"You are crazy, Adam. Utterly crazy. Come on, where are your bags?" He started walking towards the pile of bags that Adam had obviously dropped in his run up to tackle Spencer. "All this? Right. You want to crash at my place for the weekend? The team is out on a case and I don't have any more drills this weekend."

"Sounds like a plan. Now, where can we pick up a bottle of tequila on the way back? We will need something for when the bar closes tonight..."


	11. Chapter 11

BAU life

"Spencer, what are you still doing here?"Hotch said in surprise when he saw Spencer still sitting in the bullpen as he exited his office, finally done with the revised budget for Strauss. "It is rather late to still be working when we are on cold cases this week."

"I know, but I was getting into the zone and didn't want to break it. Besides, I wanted to wait until the rush calmed down before making my way to the VRE. Even though I don't need the cane any longer, I'm not back to 100% and don't like fighting the crowds," he answered after closing the file he was working on.

"And what you aren't saying is that your car isn't working again. Come on, let's grab dinner and I'll drive you home."

"Hotch, you don't need to do that. It is late enough now that the VRE shouldn't be too crowded. Besides, I have food at home for dinner because without traveling lately I've actually been able to stock my refrigerator and pantry adequately!" Spencer argued.

"No, I'm driving you home. Just because it shouldn't be too crowded doesn't mean that it won't still be hard to navigate if your knee starts to hurt. Let's go and while we are heading to the car, you can tell me what you are in the mood to eat," Hotch said as he switched off the small desk lamp and waited patiently.

Spencer grudgingly packed up a few files and other items he was taking home before looking up, "Fine, I'm ready. Let's go. Oh, and Thai. I am in the mood for Thai."

"Thai sounds great," Aaron said as he placed his hand on Spencer's lower back to usher him towards the elevators. As he did so, he could feel Spencer shiver at the touch. When he looked over to make sure that he hadn't hurt the younger man, Aaron could see that there was a faint hint of pink starting to tinge Spencer's cheeks. "How are you doing? Is something bothering you?"

Realizing that Aaron had felt the shiver, he quickly responded. "No, no, everything is fine. I'm good right now," saying that, he stepped a bit closer to Aaron and leaned into the touch, forcing Aaron's hand to slide from the lower back to wrap around his waist and rest his hand on Spencer's hip, " really good actually." The two men walked the rest of the way to Aaron's car like that, both grateful that it was late enough that no one else was around.

When they reached the car they split apart, reluctantly, and both got into the vehicle. The drive to the Thai restaurant was done in comfortable silence. While making their way through the doorway, Spencer started to trip and was saved from a rather ungainly fall by Aaron's hand on his elbow. The hand didn't leave his arm immediately but rather slid down until their fingers could intertwine. Aaron shot him a rather nervous look as their hands joined together. Spencer's returning grin had Aaron's face breaking out into a smile that took away Spencer's breath. The two were standing there looking at each other and smiling as though they were the only ones left in the world when the hostess cleared her throat.

Aaron recovered first and quickly requested a table for two. The hostess led them to a back corner that was somehow more romantic than it should have been given the small size of the venue in a strip mall. Once seated and with their beverages ordered, the two sat at the table, suddenly awkward despite the earlier intimacy. Spencer couldn't take it anymore, "What is this? What's going on between us?"

Spencer's blunt questions startled Aaron. He opened his mouth to respond but then closed it when he realized that he didn't have an immediate answer. He looked at Spencer for a few moments, how his cheeks were flushed, his eyes wide with hope and fear, his body tense as though fighting the urge to flee from Aaron's response. "Reid, Spencer, I don't know. I don't know what it is that we have right now but I have ideas on what I want. What do you think is going on?"

"Well, I think what has been happening is that we have both been too afraid to admit that there is some level of attraction between the two of us. I know that I find you attractive and would not be averse to exploring certain options with you outside of our professional relationship," Spencer noticed that as he was saying this, Aaron had started to relax and smile in agreement. Before Aaron could interrupt, he continued. " However, before we explore anything beyond the status quo, we both need to be reminded of what any changes mean, especially for me. I know it has been a few years since you were a practicing attorney and likely didn't spend a lot of time involved in any sort of cases involving the US military, but since February of 1994 the policy of 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' has been in effect. That means that if there is credible proof of any sort of homosexual acts on my behalf, I could be discharged from the Navy Reserve. Likewise, even though there is not currently an explicit policy stating that homosexuals are not allowed to serve in the FBI, we both know that for the most part that homophobia runs rampant in the Bureau. Setting aside the issues relating to a homosexual relationship, you are my boss. If we were to enter into any sort of relationship, whether romantic or not, it could result in one or both of us being transferred or let go. Personally, I do not want to lose my job or be discharged from the Navy, especially if this is some sort of rebound for you. I have worked too hard for both of these positions. You have not only yourself but Jack to consider as well. You cannot afford to have your career terminated at this point. Bottom line, we have worked too hard to get where we are and shouldn't do anything to jeopardize our futures. If it means stopping now and walking away from each other outside of work, fine. If it means discussing this as adults to come up with a plan to handle the complications, fine. Discussing this now means that we can walk away from whatever this is before it gets bigger." Finishing his thoughts, Spencer slumped back into his seat, nervous about how Aaron would react. He had been harsh, but honest. There was too much on the line for both of them to go into this with their eyes closed. They both needed to be aware of at a minimum, the obvious consequences.

The silence from the man across the table had Spencer wanting very badly to fidget. He couldn't think of anything additional to say without knowing what Aaron's reaction was going to be. Aaron wasn't helping his anxiety at the moment. His previously open and expressive face had closed off into the mask of Hotch. He would be a fantastic poker player, Spencer mused. He knew what he wanted from this evening, this conversation. He just didn't know how to let Aaron know that he desperately wanted to try for something more. He didn't know how to tell Aaron that he knew that it was going to be incredibly difficult, how secret the relationship would need to be. As it was, Spencer was already worrying about having been found out despite there being nothing to find out. Their actions leaving the office and even upon entering the restaurant were unduly familiar should any surveillance footage be found. All he could do was wait for Aaron to make the next move.

After what felt like a lifetime to Spencer, Aaron took a sip of his water and finally responded. "Spencer, it is obvious that you have put a lot of thought into what it would mean to enter into a relationship with me. You have mentioned the consequences that we would both suffer from having this become public knowledge. You have discussed the issues that you see as pertinent to the discussion, namely all the aspects that could go wrong. What you have failed to discuss, Dr. is the other side of the argument. What if things go well? What are the benefits to changing the status quo? You are also approaching this as though I have not given the situation the same due consideration," he paused for a moment to drink in the sight of Spencer sitting up straighter in his seat. The eyes which had gone dull with the thought of inevitable rejection during his speech, had started to regain a glimmer of hope. Aaron was having a hard time keeping a tight leash on the excitement that he was feeling at the moment too. His heart was beating quickly in his chest and his palms were sweaty while the butterflies in his stomach reminded him of how he felt every time he saw the young Dr. Reid. "I have given it consideration and would like to discuss certain points that you made. First, I am aware of the 'Don't ask, don't tell' policy referenced as well as the bigotry towards homosexuals in our current career field. That said, I am also able to be quite discreet when necessary and do not feel the need to flaunt much, including my relationships. While complete secrecy is not the idea situation at this time it is an understood and accept side effect of altering our current status. Second, you mention a change in career and possible limitations on future progression. You for one are a genius who is being courted by many organizations, government and civilian alike. Many of those civilian job opportunities could care less about or sexual orientation. While they may not be profiling for the BAU, your future would not suffer greatly should we be let go. As it stands, as your superior, I would likely be let go as having abused the power of my position and you would remain in place with, perhaps, a reprimand that would not do much to limit you in the FBI. In the event that I was let go, I have maintained my credentials and would be able to enter into private practice with little fanfare or issue. Do not concern yourself with the future when we are working on understanding the present. Finally, I do not want to walk away from this."

The smile that met his final point was absolutely and utterly breathtaking. Aaron was smiling with similar happiness but knew that he could never match the stunning vision before him.

Spencer knew that he was grinning like a mad man but he couldn't help himself. The quiet, shy happiness that he could see reflected in Aaron's face was enough to offset any embarrassment he might have felt. He reached across the table and gently took Aaron's hand in his own. "Then we are agreed? We are doing this?"

Aaron interlaced his fingers with Spencer's, "We are."

Battalion Life

"Lieutenant Reid! Lieutenant Carlisle! Are you gentlemen busy this afternoon?" The panicked voice cut into the conversation of the two men.

Looking up from where Adam was working with Spencer on completing his Seabee Combat Warfare PQS books, they were greeted with the sight of a very frazzled Lieutenant who looked vaguely familiar. Adam spoke up first, "Can we help you, LT?"

"Yes, I recently came on board as the NOSC legal officer. We are doing a couple of Administrative Separation boards this drill weekend. When we went to start the board this morning we found out that one of the members had served with the respondent and another was found unsuitable for other reasons. I need two officers to sit this board, now. There aren't many units drilling at the NOSC this weekend though and everyone is busy," She said as she sat down in a chair across from the men. "Would you two be able to sit the board? It isn't difficult but does require you to be impartial. Please?"

Her look of desperation was enough to convince both of them, independently, that they would help her if they could. "We aren't doing anything that can't be finished later. What do we need to do?" Spencer said on behalf of both of them.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! Just grab your stuff because this will likely take a while. I need to go rewrite the convening order and then you will meet with CDR Whitsell who is the senior board member. He will be leading the board, there will be a script for you to follow, and it is pretty straightforward as to what you need to do. Listen to everything, read everything, and then deliberate. The JAGs are used to members not having experience and will walk you through anything and answer questions if you have any during the proceedings. In some ways, these are rather informal because they are administrative only and not judicial or punitive." By this point she was practically vibrating with excitement over finding officers to sit the board. "I'm going to go and get started on the changes I need to make to the paperwork. Just go ahead to the command conference room, everyone else is set up there." With that she was out the door, leaving Adam and Spencer to pack up and make their way to the proceedings.

"Have you ever done one of these?" Spencer asked as he put the last of his paperwork into his black the annoyance at his usual brown messenger bag not being acceptable for use in uniform, he focused on his friend's answer.

"Nope. I have heard about them and sent sailors to them for various reasons while I was the Officer in Charge of the detachment back in the day. No real reason to have anything to do with them since then though."

"This should be interesting."

BT

Spencer sat there in silence. The board and its procedures were straightforward enough, it all seemed rather cut and dried. The sailor had a positive urinalysis for cocaine, marijuana, methamphetamine, and hydromorphone. Honestly, Spencer was more surprised that the sailor was sitting in front of him given the drug cocktail he would have needed to have taken in order to achieve the metabolized levels present in the government's binder of evidence. There didn't appear to be any kind of extenuating circumstances that would justify the drug usage and given the drugs taken, just having possession should be enough to get this sailor arrested on drug charges. Just as Spencer was contemplating what his responsibility was as a federal officer, he was brought back to the matter at hand.

"We would like to call the Respondent for questioning," the counsel stated, the government having rested its case. The respondent was surprising in how normal he looked. He appeared like a squared away sailor, contrite for his misconduct. Once he started speaking though, his entire demeanor changed. He went from being sorry for his actions to looking almost wistful at the memories.

"Well, it hurt. Everything that I had been going through was just painful. My heart was breaking and I couldn't handle the pain. I took the Dilaudid to numb the pain. Then, I realized how amazing it made me feel. It was freeing. I just wanted the pain to stop and the drugs took away the pain. The other stuff? I didn't even know I was doing it. I, I was so focused on shooting up with the dilaudid that..."

The testimony continued but Spencer couldn't listen. He couldn't focus on what the sailor was saying. All he could think about was Hankel, the drugs, and the feeling of shooting up. He understood what the sailor was saying. He knew how it felt to suddenly be without pain. He couldn't stop the craving that was slowly working its way into his mind. It was an aching hunger that no food or drink could curb. It was an itching in his arm, in his hands to reach for a needle. It was a craving from the very depths of his soul. He couldn't do it though. He couldn't compromise his sobriety now, not over this. He just needed to get out of here, away from the reminders. He tried to think about anything other than what was being said before him, about the drugs.

"Lead me not into temptation," he murmured to himself while everyone was leaving the room but the board members. He just needed to get through deliberation and then he could call Aaron. Maybe he would call John? No, not John, yet. Maybe if talking to Aaron didn't work. Aaron always helped though, he understood.

Adam was starting to get worried. Normally, he could count on Spencer to be a voice of logic, reason, and a by the book kind of officer when it came to rules and regulations. His behavior during the deliberations was unnerving. He was too quiet and just went along with whatever Adam and the senior member were saying. He appeared very distracted and nervous. In fact, Adam could see his foot shaking beneath the table. He was really getting worried for his friend.

As soon as the response was read to the respondent and the opposing counsels had their opportunity to object and finalize paperwork, Spencer bade a quick farewell to everyone and shot out of the conference room without looking back. Adam quickly gathered his things and raced after his friend.

The NOSC wasn't terribly large, but it was large enough to force Adam to spend a few minutes finding where Spencer had run. He eventually found him leaning against a wall behind the building, holding his cell up with one hand while the other was buried in his pocket. As he came up quietly he could hear Spencer's side of the conversation.

"It was hard, Aaron. It hurts right now. It itches. I don't know what to do," Spencer said quietly.

Whatever the mysterious Aaron said had Spencer responding quickly. "No! Absolutely not. I can't and I won't. I just don't know what to do until it goes away though. What do I do? It hurts." He was practically in tears by the time he was able to get that out. "No, there is no one here but I still shouldn't say anything."

Adam realized he needed to make his presence known before something too personal was said. "Spencer?"

He looked up in shock at his friend whose presence he had not even noticed until just then. "Aaron, I have got to go. I'll call you later if that is ok?" Pause, "Thank you, I'll figure it out." He closed the phone and turned towards Adam, his other hand still firmly in his pocket despite regulations against it. "What?"

"Hey, chill man! I was just worried. You were acting strange during the board and then you race out of there like someone was chasing you. I'm worried. You were fine earlier, what happened?"

Spencer sighed and fell back against the wall again. "I can't talk about it."

"Reid, you know you can talk to me about anything. I'm your friend, your shipmate! I've got your back!" Adam joked trying to get Spencer to lighten up.

"No, I can't talk to you about this. I won't do that to you," the vehemence in Spencer's voice had Adam physically backing away from Spencer. "Look, I just don't want to get anyone else involved. I work with Aaron and he understands the situation. There were just some things said at the board that gave me what amounts to flashbacks and I just needed help dealing with them. Aaron knows the full story he'll help me later. Until then, I think that drill is over for the day. Let's get dinner and a drink before we hit our racks."

It was hard not to notice how forced Spencer's request for a regular evening was. Still, Adam was worried for his friend and wanted to be there for him, no matter what. There was always the chance with them going for a drink that he could loosen Spencer's tongue that way too.

Spencer, meanwhile could not stop rubbing the coin in his pocket. He was gripping it so tightly that the edges were digging into his palm enough that he was afraid he would break the skin. However, that coin and the brief chat with Aaron were the only things stopping him from tracking down that sailor and asking who his dealer was in this area. He replayed everything Aaron had said in their brief conversation and reminded himself why he was still clean 2 years, 10 months and 3 days later. He would make it to 2 years 10 months and 4 days. He could do it. Adam would help distract him for now and Aaron would help distract him later. He had support, he had a goal, he could do this. He would stay clean.


	12. Chapter 12

Battalion Life

"Treat every weapon as if it is loaded at all times. I do not care if you just unloaded the weapon, you WILL treat it as though it is loaded. I do not care that you just had Jim Bob show you it was clear and safe, as far as you know that weapon is fully loaded with the safety off. Do you understand?" The voice boomed across the assembled group. "Now, what are the four rules of weapon safety?"

As one voice, the group responded to the Range Master's question, "Treat every weapon as if it is loaded at all times. Never point a weapon at something you do not want to destroy. Keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to fire. Keep the safety on at all times."

"Again!"

Responding along with the rest of his shipmates, Spencer allowed his mind to wander just a bit during the classroom portion of the weapons training. It wasn't that he didn't care or that he believed this was unimportant, quite the opposite. He knew better than most people exactly how dangerous these weapons could be. He shuddered a bit internally as he remembered the times that he had fired his weapon in the line of duty. Stopping himself from going down that rather maudlin train of thought, he tried to focus on the current instruction. The classroom portion for the training here was very similar to that which he had gotten at the FBI academy. It was also the same information instruction that Aaron went through before every practice session. Passively, Spencer noted that the Range Master had continued on with his lecture, moving on to discuss the weapon conditions and how they related to the small handgun being used for the qualification that day.

This was Spencer's frustration with the current training, he was not allowed to use his own weapon to test. After failing his gun qualification several years ago, Spencer had worked long and hard to become more proficient with firearms so as to never be in that position again. During his considerable amount of time spent on the range with Aaron, he learned that the glock he had been using at the beginning probably wasn't the best weapon for him. He began exploring other FBI acceptable options before determining that a revolver was going to be his best bet for accuracy and precision. While the FBI was accommodating with regards to weapons for field agents, the Navy wasn't quite as open minded. If he wanted to qualify on a handgun here he would do so with the M9. Qualifying on the handgun was also required of him as it was the final task he needed to accomplish in order to earn his Seabee Combat Warfare (SCW) qualification. If he was successful today then he would be pinned the next day at command quarters.

The SCW process was long, especially as a reservist. Not only was the amount of work that needed to be done staggering but much of accomplishing the qualification relied on very good timing. Spencer felt incredibly lucky that his timing had worked well enough that he had managed to complete just about everything at its earliest opportunity. That is why now, a few months shy of 4 years in the Navy, he was about to earn his pin.

First, he needed to make it through the shoot and from what he could tell, they were about to get on the line to begin the test. It was now or never.

BT

Spencer stood in front of the mirror of his hotel room just looking at himself. He had come back to change and pack his bags before heading back to his own apartment. His attention had been caught as he walked into the room by a flash of gold bouncing off the full length mirror inside the room's entrance. He stopped and just stared.

The man in the mirror was tall and lean. Where once he could have been described as skinny and unhealthy, he was now lean and with lightly defined muscles. He was dressed in the uniform of the day, shiny black shoes, khaki pants held up by a khaki belt with gleaming gold buckle. A khaki shirt, crisply starched, had short sleeves and gleaming insignia on the collar. On the right side of his chest was a name tag, white writing on the black background saying only "REID." The left side of his chest held a single line of 3 ribbons, the first two meant little to him as they were based solely on his current assignment and service during this time of 'war'. The third and final ribbon meant the most to him as he had stopped at the exchange the night before for the sole purpose of updating his ribbon rack. It was the most simple of the ribbons, a dark navy blue with light green lines but it was graced with a small gleaming E. It amused him to no end that the reason that he originally sought out the Navy was because he had failed his handgun qualification. Now the Navy considered him an Expert with the handgun.

More important than his meager row of ribbons was a gleaming gold pin. It is what had caught the light and his attention earlier, prompting his current reflection. The pin, a Seabee superimposed on an anchor centered on oak leaves, represented the culmination of long hours of proving his knowledge to get signatures, sitting in a hole in the ground in the middle of the night in the freezing cold rain during a field exercise, online courses, boards, and even a written exam. For Spencer, the learning was the easy part. It took almost no effort to memorize the proper documents and pass any of the tests put before him. While it took time to earn the signatures in his PQS books, it wasn't for lack of knowledge but merely lack of access to someone qualified to sign the books. The difficult part was being forced to do things on his own when he had become accustomed to working with a team. While he could seek out the subject matter experts for thoughts, opinions, and ideas, when he stood before his peers and his Commanding Officer, he was alone to defend it all. He knew more than anyone that the only way to have a successful mission was to work as a team, relying on the strengths of others to make up for his own weaknesses.

And yet, he had done it. He had stood alone and answered questions, planned a mission, and defended it. He had made mistakes but found ways to correct them on his 'look-ups.' When the CO had taken his hand to shake it in congratulations, he realized that he no longer had to stand alone. He was a part of the team and he didn't want it to be any other way.

It stunned him how much he had changed since joining the BAU and the Navy. Just over 10 years previously he had been granted his first PhD. He had earned the degree while still a child, in thought if not in body. During that course of study he had not outright shunned the help of those around him, but had not allowed anyone to get close enough to work with him. He knew that his work from all 3 of this doctorates had spawned additional projects and thinking back on them, wondered how far some of those topics could have been explored had he been willing to collaborate.

When he joined the BAU he had been young, timid, and still afraid of working within a team. He had far too many memories of having his immense intelligence causing others to take advantage of him. He still had nightmares of group projects from his high school and undergraduate days when the vast majority of the work would land on his shoulders because he was so smart. His fellow agents had worked hard to break him out of his shell and get him to work with them rather than parallel to them. As time went on, he gradually became more and more open to working with them, still providing his insights, facts, and figures but also listening more and welcoming the critiques that were meant to make him a better agent and profiler.

When he joined the Navy he had done it to prove to others that he was good enough. That he was capable of great things. What he had learned was that there was no 'Navy of One'. The Navy needs all of its sailors, officer and enlisted, to work. It needs that accumulation of skills, knowledge, and spirit that comes from teamwork. Being a sailor requires putting aside the individual desires and goals in favor of the common goal. As amusing as it was, the trite order of importance 'ship, shipmate, self' is necessary and true. These were not easy lessons for Spencer to learn, even with his headstart at the BAU to learn about teamwork, but he had. He was now incredibly aware that what he was doing wasn't for him and his individual goals any longer, he was part of something much greater than himself.

The image in the mirror was smiling back at him now, posture relaxed but alert. Unlike at the completion of his initial training, he wasn't looking at the figure of a boy playing dress up in a uniform. What he saw today was the image of a man who had finally started to learn what it meant to wear the uniform and perhaps to have earned it in some small way.


	13. Chapter 13

BAU Life V

"Reid, I need to see you in my office," Aaron said as he strode through the bullpen. "NOW."

Spencer jumped at the command, almost spilling his coffee and actually spilling several case folders that had been sitting in a haphazard pile on the corner of his desk. "Coming, Hotch!" he said as he raced to catch up with his boss.

"Oh boy, I wonder what the genius did to piss off Hotch today?" Derek asked.

Emily looked up from where she had been focusing on her paperwork. "I don't know and frankly I don't care. Reid found out that I've been slipping him consults and found a way to slip them back into my pile.I am so far behind that I'm never going to catch up. I don't have time to gossip."

Snorting, Derek, who was not nearly as behind as Emily, leaned back in his chair to watch Hotch's office. Something was going on and he wanted to know what it was. It was just too bad that the unit chief had the foresight to close his blinds. He might not be able to read lips, but posture and movements could still tell a lot about the topic of discussion.

It wasn't long before Dave walked out of his office, a surprisingly neutral expression on his face, knocked on Hotch's door and walked into the office without waiting for a reply. The door closed behind him and Derek became even more intrigued. Something was definitely happening and he wanted to know what. Well, he had one more source to try.

"Hey, Baby Girl, I need some help…."

BT

Spencer was very confused. Hotch seemed incredibly upset with him and he couldn't figure out why. They had been fine when they had said goodbye last night and nothing had happened that he knew about. Even though they kept work fairly separate from their personal life, it was inevitable that the two would bleed together now and then but nothing that could account for this! After hastily picking up everything that he had dropped when Hotch surprised him, he rushed after his boss.

He had barely made it through the door when Hotch said "Close the door."

Tentatively, turning back towards the door, he gently eased it closed only to be surprised by the firm body that had suddenly trapped him against the door. "Uhh, Hotch...Aaron, what's going on?"

"I can't do this anymore," Aaron growled into Spencer's ear. As Spencer opened his mouth to argue the point, it was captured by Aaron's. The kiss was hot, wet, and absolutely perfect. Spencer melted into his partner's strong frame, relying solely upon him and the door for support. All too quickly Aaron pulled back and finished his thought. "I can't keep this secret from the team any longer. I want…"

"Aaron, NO! Not only would we be breaking fraternization rules with you as my supervisor but," Spencer interrupted. His eyes wide with panic now instead of passion. "Aaron, we can't! There is too much on the line. I thought we had discussed this? I thought we were in agreement about all of this?" He gulped nervously.

Aaron pushed himself away from Spencer, growling in frustration. "I know what we discussed. I know why we did it but I'm too invested in this relationship. We can't hide it forever and we need to start working on a plan to tell the team. That is why I called you up here."

"You mean you didn't call me up to maul me?" Spencer joked in an effort to ease the tension. He found himself fingering the hem of his vest nervously.

Aaron smiled softly at him, "No, as much as I was enjoying it and would like to continue, I called you up because I think we need to tell Dave about us."

"Dave? Why do you want to tell Rossi? And why now?"

"Think about it, Spencer. He is the senior most member of the team and by rights he should be the unit chief if we are going by strict seniority. As the reason for most of the fraternization rules currently in place, he also understands workplace relationships happen despite the best efforts of those in power. Most importantly, he is the only one senior enough to do your evaluations. The evaluations are the reason that he needs to know now. You should be getting an email from HR in the next few days to complete your online self assessment. As you know, once complete it goes to your supervisor for comment, review, and debriefing. As your partner I cannot in good conscience perform your review and debriefing. I need to pass this task on to someone else and Dave is the only choice. When I ask him to take over your evaluations he is going to want to know why."

Spencer stepped away from his position against the door and made his way to sit down in one of the chairs across from Aaron's desk. "As much as I hate to admit it, that makes a lot of sense. I know that our working relationship and team dynamics haven't suffered since we started the relationship but it is better to get ahead of any potential issues. My question though, will he be supportive?"

Aaron mirrored Spencer's movements and settled into his own desk chair, "I see no reason for him to not be supportive. He will likely be more upset over the additional paperwork being your supervisor entails. As you are aware, the consulting you do with several of the other agencies involves a lot of paperwork. That is how I intend to justify to Strauss the change in supervisors; with Dave taking over the workload associated with you, I will have more time to spend with my son as I am a recent widower."

"I'm assuming you had plans to bring Rossi in while I'm up here?" Seeing the affirmative nod from Aaron, Spencer continued. "This is so well thought out that I have to ask why you didn't bring this up to me before now."

"I've been thinking about it since our first date, when we had dinner at the Thai restaurant. I didn't want to say anything because I wasn't sure how invested you were in the relationship and until I knew, I didn't want to complicate matters at work. I'm sorry."

"Aaron," Spencer managed to instill both frustration, affection, and forgiveness into the single word."Call Rossi, get him in here."

While Aaron was making the call, Spencer relaxed further down into the chair in which he was sitting. He let himself get lost in his thoughts while waiting. What Aaron had said made a lot of sense. Performance evaluations were something, he admitted to himself, that he had not considered prior to this meeting. He had been so focused on keeping their relationship private in their daily lives that he had neglected to look at long term issues, such as the evaluations. His frustration with Aaron for not discussing this solution with him earlier though was also tinged with embarrassment that he hadn't thought of this rather elegant solution himself.

It didn't take long for Rossi to make his way into the office, only knocking as the door was swung open.

"Dave, thanks for joining us. Have a seat," Aaron rose to greet his friend and coworker,

"What's this all about, Aaron? You just said to get in here and I'm here and so is the kid. What do you need from us?" Rossi asked as he sat down in the chair next to Spencer. His quick assessment of the office had him confused. Spencer was lounging in a chair, looking off to space with a thoughtful and slightly annoyed expression. Aaron was hovering behind his desk. Anyone who didn't know Aaron would take him to be the absolute epitome of calm, but having known him for as long as he had, Dave could see small tells that showed just how anxious Aaron was at the moment. The increased rate of blinking, the continuous but subtle adjustments to his suit, cuffs, tie, collar, and cuffs again, all spoke to a nervousness that was a stark contrast to Spencer's contemplation.

Sitting down again, Aaron didn't respond immediately but rather focused on his desk and rearranging his pens. After a few moments of awkward silence, he started to speak slowly, "Well, Dave, I asked both you and Reid here to discuss a favor. This is a rather delicate situation and discretion will be absolutely necessary. That said, there are ways that enough of the truth can be told to prevent unnecessary scrutiny…"

"Oh for pete's sake! Rossi, Aaron and I are dating each other and we need you to take over my evaluations to prevent any additional signs of impropriety," Spencer blurted, annoyed with how his partner was not getting to the point of the discussion.

Rossi's eyebrows raised dramatically, this was most definitely not something he had anticipated hearing when he entered the office. Looking between the two though it made sense in a strange way. Aaron's anxiety was easily explained and the kid never did anything normally, so his calm demeanor was perfectly understandable. With the situation in the open, Spencer was now the one looking nervous, as if Dave's reaction had the potential to destroy his world. Aaron was just looking embarrassed but relieved that Spencer had spoken.

"Well. Hmm. This is obviously something relatively new," Dave finally said after assessing the other men.

"Right around three months," Aaron replied. "I am sure Spencer can give you to the hour." Aaron looked at his partner for confirmation, upon receiving it continued. "Though that level of detail is unnecessary. What is necessary is your discretion. While there is no explicit policy against homosexuals in the FBI, I think we are all well aware of the biases that many in law enforcement have towards gays and lesbians. Given our high profile work and our regular interaction with other law enforcement agencies, we are looking to keep this as quiet and off the books as possible. We also do not want there to be any backlash when it becomes known." He held up a hand to stall both men who looked as though they were going to say something. "Yes, when. Given the seriousness of this relationship, I have no doubt that we will reach a time when we will no longer be able to hide the relationship."

Aaron's words caused the argument to fall off Spencer's lips and a smile to take hold. It was one thing to be all in on the relationship, but to have the same vocalized by his partner in front of one of his oldest friends? That was a level of commitment Spencer had never seen before in a relationship.

Meanwhile, Dave was just shaking his head at his coworkers. "I might not understand everything that's going on here, but I know enough to see some of the big problems you will have to do deal with. I got nothing against you, Kid, but are you sure about this? And you, Aaron, what were you thinking? This is career suicide for both of you if word gets to the wrong ears."

"Yes, we are sure. And no, Aaron wasn't just thinking with his dick if that's what you are asking. We both know the consequences if this gets out. That is why we are hoping that you will be discreet."

Dave raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I can do this. I might still be a bit behind in getting on board with the idea of profiling in teams, but I've come to appreciate the people on this team. You are family and family does what it must. Now, what's the cover?"

Sighing in relief, Aaron sat back to outline the edited truth that would serve as their justification for the sudden changes.

BT

"Anything you want, my Chocolate Thunder," Garcia said as she hung up the phone with her fluffy capped pen. She turned her full attention then to her computer system. "Ok then, let's see what we can find. Why would Hotch be so upset with our Junior G-Man and all around adorable Boy Genius? We haven't been working any cases lately so it must be something else…"

Garcia has never been so glad with her planned file and software clean up as she was right now. With relatively few programs and systems offline but no real cases on the table, she was free to 'de-bug' her new programs by searching into random topics. If one of those random topics happened to be what one Dr. Spencer Reid has been up to lately, well, it was just looking after a teammate, right? Besides, everyone on the team knew that nothing was truly secret. Working with her had shown just how much information could be gathered on an individual, for better or worse. Now that she had an object for her searches, Garcia got busy.

A few hours later, her eyes started growing wider and wider with each file she opened. "You have got to be kidding me!" she breathed out as she opened security footage from a strip mall ATM near Hotch's house. Another expletive was whispered as she opened call and text message logs. "I don't believe it. Oh, this is too big. I can't know this, I can't. I need to deny all knowledge." She quickly closed the open files and deleted them as well as her search parameters from the system. They could be found again but there was no evidence that they had been found already.

She momentarily considered calling Morgan back to tell him what she had found, but quickly discarded that idea. This wasn't her secret to tell. Not looking forward to lying to her Adonis, she reached for the phone to get it done as soon as possible. Dialing Morgan's extension she muttered to herself, "I just hope this works out for you both, you deserve happiness."

Personal Life III

"I almost didn't come to the meeting tonight," Spencer said, his voice tight. "I hate having to admit that I need help, that I'm weak. The problem is that I do and I am. I come to these meetings because I like to think that some of you understand and you do, to a point. In truth, my struggle is my own because I cannot count on anyone other than myself to understand." Spencer paused there as he saw some surprised and defensive expressions amongst those gathered.

"That sounds far more egotistical than I intended. Really, no one can fully understand what anyone else is experiencing. We make connections in meetings like this or with friends, even with coworkers and strangers on the street because we put their lives into terms that we can understand. The problem lies in the fact that something fundamental is lost in translation. The words, the nuances are not the same in each language which means that once it has been taken out of its original language, it isn't the same. It is different, close, but not the same. That means that we each walk around, speaking in our own language, hoping that someone speaks a similar dialect. When we meet someone who does, we cling to it because It makes us feel as though we aren't alone."

"We are though. Alone that is. No one speaks the same language. That is why I hate admitting that I need help, because no one understands WHY I need help. They compare my situation to theirs and usually they see that they wouldn't need help, so why should I? I hate admitting I'm weak because anyone else would see a situation in which they are not weak, so why am I? Admitting I need help, admitting I'm weak just means admitting that I'm not good enough or strong enough as everyone else."

"I'm tired of not speaking the same language as those around me. I am tired of being weak and of needing help but not wanting to seek it." Spencer shakes his head, trying to physically clear it. "Right now I'm struggling. I'm struggling because I think I'm finally finding happiness. I think I have found someone who speaks a language that I can understand, who understands mine. He has never viewed me as weak, never judged me for seeking help. I am afraid to feel happy because I feel like it can be ripped away or will fade as quickly as the high of the drugs. I am afraid of giving in to the happiness because I've never known a feeling like this that didn't come from shooting up."

"No matter how much I want to do it though, to shoot up again, I won't. I won't do it because I know that as soon as I do, the chance I have for happiness will be gone. I won't do it because everything I have worked to achieve will be gone. I won't sabotage myself that way. I would rather be here, admitting that I am weak and flawed, that I need help, than to destroy what I had to rebuild. So I am. I am here. I am admitting I'm weak. I am admitting I need help."

He smiled weakly, he knew that he was losing the attention of those with him. "My name is Spencer. I have been clean for exactly 1,502 days which is 4 years, 1 month, and 11 days. I'm struggling right now because I don't think anyone truly understands me. I'm struggling because I'm finally finding happiness someplace other than a needle. I'm struggling but I'm here because I don't want to struggle alone."


	14. Chapter 14

Aaron's Life

The Reid Effect. It deserved capitalization as far as Aaron was concerned. He had made jokes about it since first discovering the phenomenon when Spencer joined the BAU. At the time it was harmless humor, Aaron had neither children nor pets nor was there any reason for Spencer to spend time with them even if he did. Just about everything was different now. He was a single parent to Jack and he was dating Spencer. All he needed was a dog to make it a complete disaster. The Reid Effect was honestly the reason that, despite having been dating for almost 6 months, he had never formally introduced Spencer as his boyfriend to his son. He was selfish enough to admit that he wanted both Jack and Spencer in his life. He was also aware enough to know that if Spencer and Jack didn't get along, he would always side with Jack. And so he worked hard to keep the two away from each other for fear of losing one.

It had worked until one day, it didn't. Fate had a way of screwing with him though and there reached a point where he was completely unable to prevent his worlds from colliding. When it happened, it was messy and terrifying for Aaron. Thankfully, Jack wasn't the problem. His main concern was whether or not he was still going to be allowed to have ice cream after dinner and not the fact that someone he knew as a 'superhero, like Daddy!' would be spending a lot more time around the house.

The problem was Jessica. Aaron relied heavily on his ex-sister in law to watch Jack when traveling and to keep him in touch with his maternal family. Ever since Haley's funeral, Jessica had been a paragon of patience and understanding when it came to Aaron's life. So it was shocking for him when she had a lot of trouble wrapping her head around the fact that Aaron was in a relationship with a man. She wasn't upset because of any homophobic tendencies but rather that her entire view of Aaron had shifted off center. Still her comments accusing Aaron and his sexuality of being the reason that Haley had affairs were painful despite being rooted in shock more than anything else.

After Jessica had a few days to calm down, she began to see reason. Having known Aaron since shortly after Haley had started dating him, she was well aware of how much he had loved her sister. She was also well aware that because Aaron and Haley had started dating at such a young age, both had precious few opportunities for the sexual exploration that many young adults had when they went away to college. Aaron and Haley had periods during their college years during when they both sought out other relationships and as a result, Jessica couldn't be completely sure that Aaron hadn't sought out men during those times. She vividly remembered Haley experimenting with women during at least one of those times. Why would it be so far fetched to think Aaron might have done likewise? Once she reached that point of logic, it became clear that nothing had actually changed other than Aaron being happier than she could remember.

With Jessica on board with his relationship with Spencer and willing to keep it quiet, life settled into a quiet routine for Aaron. It was almost too quiet. Everything was working out so well that the peace had him on edge. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and as expected, it did.

BT

"Hotch, we can't lose her!" Morgan insisted.

Hotch did his best to keep his stoic expression in place as he replied "Strauss thinks we're all replaceable. I went over her head to try to explain that we're not." He could feel the weight of the gazes trained on him. They were all profilers here and they could all tell that there was far more to the story than what was being given, both here and to JJ.

Spencer was the first to tear his gaze from Hotch to look towards JJ, his sister in all but blood. She had been a constant in his life since the day he had set foot in the BAU bullpen. She had welcomed him with literal open arms. He couldn't imagine coming to work here and not seeing her smiling face, her gentle but firm dedication to the families and victims. Even though she wasn't leaving the DC area, everyone knew that it was a struggle to maintain friendships outside of the Bureau. They would all hug and promise to keep in touch and they would. Eventually a case would interfere with plans, phone calls would stop getting returned, and they would fade from each other's lives. It was a hard lesson to accept and Spencer wasn't sure if this was better or worse than the ways in which Elle and Gideon had left.

"I'll miss you," Spencer said simply. He knew that she would understand the unspoken words. She would understand that he would do everything in his power to keep her and Henry in his life but that he was subject to the same whims of the powers that be that were forcing her away right now. If it could happen to her, it could happen to any or all of them, at any time.

Not nearly as skilled as some on the team with holding back her emotions, JJ's eyes began to tear up as she nodded. She was afraid to open her mouth for fear of what she would say; a part of her wanted to scream that this was only temporary. That part was wrong though, the paperwork was as good as filed and she was no longer the media liaison for the BAU.

Hotch stepped away from the team, allowing them to say their goodbyes. As he stood at the railing overlooking the bullpen he thought that he could finally put that feeling of unease to rest, at least for a while. It wasn't leaving though, it remained lodged deeply in his chest, tightening ever so slightly as he watched JJ straighten her back and move towards the elevators with her box of personal possessions. This wasn't the end, something larger was still looming.

Personal Life

"I want you there," Spencer said suddenly. He sat up and turned towards his partner. "Will you be there?"

"Want me where?" Aaron asked, voice rough with sleep. "I don't know where you want me but I could have sworn you just had me right here."

"Cute. Seriously though, Aaron, I want you there for my promotion. Traditionally it is the spouse or family member who pins on the new rank. Even though we have not reached that stage in our relationship, I want to be able to show you off as much as I can. As you are my boss and everyone knows that I am incredibly close with the team it wouldn't be too weird to have you do it. Though if you feel like it is maybe I can get Henry to do it though that would mean getting JJ involved and I don't know if I'm ready for that...Are you even listening to me?" Spencer said as he finally realized that Aaron had closed his eyes and was chuckling softly.

"Of course I will be there. I'm honored that you want me to do that for you. Speaking of JJ though, how are you and the rest of the team handling her being gone? It has been a few weeks already and I know that you have had very little communication with her."

Flopping back on to his pillow Spencer thought about that. He had actually spent a lot of time thinking about just that topic. "It is hard. I know that leaving wasn't her choice but I can't help but compare it to when Elle and Gideon left. Intellectually I know that she didn't make the decision to leave, but she still left. As unreasonable as it is, I think we are all still mad at her for not fighting harder. However, with how busy we have been it hasn't given us a lot of time to dwell on that anger. Oddly though, no one is really upset with you. I don't know if it is because you are still here or that we can see how you are pushing yourself to cover JJ's work as well as your own that they feel more sorry for you than upset with you."

"As for the promotion ceremony, thank you. It really would mean a lot to have you there for me. I don't know if I want the entire team though, I know that my service is still a bit of a sore subject with them. They are more upset that I lied to them for almost 3 years before they found out. And, when they did find out, it wasn't because I wanted to tell them but I was outed while we were on a case. I wanted them to know but it was just easier for me to compartmentalize my life, less chance of getting hurt. We have to trust each other and lying to them, even by omission like I did could have destroyed that trust." He paused there, still considering the issue. "It's complicated because I feel like I am doing the same thing over again, but this time with our relationship. I don't want to hide any longer, but we can't be open. It helps that Rossi knows, it makes it feel a little less scandalous. We should probably tell the team soon but since we can't be out to the Bureau as a whole, it feels like we would just be pulling them into a web of lies. Likewise, I cannot be outed to my Battalion and telling anyone there is not going to happen. I am starting to think that even though I'm not ready for my families to blend, that they need to do so in order to keep the subterfuge to a minimum. So, maybe if we don't catch a case the entire team can come for my promotion ceremony? I'll even see if JJ would be able to come, it would be a good excuse to get the team together and clear the air. Also, with everyone there it won't be odd for my boss to pin me so it will be easier to continue to hide our relationship from the Navy for the time being."

Aaron meanwhile, had started to nuzzle and kiss along Spencer's neck in an effort to distract the young man from his thoughts. "Mmmm sounds good. Whatever you would like," he paused as an idea came to him. "If we come to the promotion ceremony, can I attend the wetting down?"

"I don't see why not," Spencer replied. "Why would you want to though? I don't even want to attend and it will be my party."

"Well, I just want to make sure that Adam doesn't drag you out to anymore tattoo parlors." With that, Aaron slid his hand to Spencer's hip and started to caress the flesh where he knew that Spencer had been branded following his last promotion.

Spencer's breath caught as a surge of desire ran through him the moment that Aaron's fingers touched his hip. Doing his best to sound calm he said "Well, if he does, maybe we can get matching tattoos."

Aaron's fingertips stuttered at the statement. A heartbeat later they resumed their ministrations with a bit more pressure and intent. Given how much he loved handling Spencer's existing tattoo, the idea of having a matching one for Spencer to enjoy was intensely erotic. He rolled on top of his partner and ground his hips down, letting his arousal be his response. Spencer's answering hardness left no question as to the fact that all conversation was over for now.


	15. Chapter 15

Battalion Life

When Spencer's phone started to buzz in his pocket he answered it on speakerphone with a quick "What have you got for us, Garcia?" without even looking at the screen. He and the rest of the team were too far entrenched in their latest case to have concerned themselves with much of anything happening outside of this small Wyoming town.

"Dude, who the hell is Garcia?" was the response by a confused male voice. "I just wanted to see if you had been keeping up with any of the message traffic lately. I am guessing you haven't been since you never called to congratulation me last month."

While the caller was speaking, Spencer was frantically trying to turn off the speakerphone feature. As he was fumbling with the phone, he hurried from the room. "Carlisle! What are you doing calling me now? I'm in the middle of a case!"

"You are always in the middle of a case. Look, I won't keep you. I just wanted you to know that I'm kind of hurt right now," came the resigned reply.

"What did I do?"

"More like what you didn't do! Dude, did you even read ALNAV 052/10? Did you?"

Spencer's mind went absolutely blank. As much as he enjoyed reading government publications, he couldn't remember having read that particular piece of Navy correspondence. It had to have been important though for Adam to actually call and ask about it. "No, not yet, why?" It was a safe answer, he thought.

His safe answer was greeted with a sigh. "It was the Reserve Staff Corps O4 selection board results. Reid, I got selected to promote to Lieutenant Commander. Not just that, but based on my number, I will be doing it in November as one of the first."

"Congratulations! I didn't even realize you were eligible for promotion this year!" Spencer did not have to fake any of the excitement for his friend.

"Well, I did commission a few years before you did. This is why I'm calling you. I know you are set to promote to Lieutenant on the 1st of November. I wanted to know if you wanted to combine the promotions into a single ceremony. I'd love to be able to pass on all of my LT rank insignia to you. Besides, can you even begin to imagine how amazing and epically awesome our joint wetting down would be?"

Paling slightly at the thought of another Adam Carlisle planned wetting down, Spencer tried to run through any and all objections he could come up with that didn't sound like he was whining. Despite his vast intelligence, he couldn't come up with anything beyond 'but I don't want another tattoo!' Weakly, he responded "Sure, sounds...great. Umm, just so you know that I have invited my coworkers to the ceremony and at least one of them wants to come to the wetting down. It is my boss and I really don't WANT to get fired. Oh shit! I've gotta go, I should not have left the team for this long while working! Look, we can get together to plan everything when I get back to town. I'll call you when I'm heading back to DC."

Spencer never heard Adam's response as he closed the phone and ran back into the conference room where he had been working with the team. He raced back to his position at the board and tried to ignore the glares directed at his back.

BT

"So, Mr. FBI Special Agent finally deigns to grace us with his presence," Adam joked as Spencer walked towards the table at which Adam was already seated.

"Very funny. I called to tell you that I was running a few minutes late," he responded sliding into the booth across from his friend. Snagging a nacho chip from the plate in front of Adam, Spencer continued, "So congratulations are in order. As are apologies for not reading the message. In my defense, I was trying to find and stop a serial killer before anyone else was hurt."

Adam waved his hand dismissively. "Apology accepted. Though, as a Lieutenant Commander, Select, I want to remind you that I will STILL outrank you even when you promote. So, learn your lesson and don't let it happen again. Deal? Now stop eating my chips! Order your own!"

"Deal. Now, what's your plan for this promotion? If I know you, you care less about the ceremony and more about the after party details. I am not sure if I'm ready for what you are planning though. Generally, your plans require at least a beer if not a shot of tequila to understand and agree to."

"Ouch, you wound me! I promise that this, while epic, will be entirely family friendly. Well, maybe not FAMILY friendly but I promise that we won't do anything that will result in you being fired.

"Or waking up with a new tattoo," he paused waiting for confirmation. After a few minutes with the two men staring at each other, Spencer tried again. "Carlisle…"

"Fine, or waking up with a new tattoo. Are you happy?"

Stealing another chip from Adam's plate, Spencer sat back. "Very. Now what did you have in mind?"

"Well, that kind of depends. I know the Skipper pinned you when you promoted to O2, were you going to have anyone special there to put your new rank on for this one? When I put on O3 my mom came and did it for me. I was going to ask her to do it again. What about you? Is your mom going to come out? You said something about your boss coming but not your family," Adam started.

"Well, I told the team and JJ but I don't know if they are going to be able to make it. JJ got word that she is going out of town for an indefinite period of time and the team could always be called away. My mom isn't well. She really can't travel and my dad? Yeah, let's not talk about him."

"Ok then, no one else in your life you want to ask? No special lady friend? Ah, you are blushing, there is someone! Who is she?"

Spencer smiled at what Adam's reaction would be when he found out the 'special lady' in his life was his decidedly male boss. Still, there was a special female in his life that he could invite, she was one of his best friends outside of the unit. "I was thinking that I could invite Lila Archer."

"Lila Archer? As in the actress Lila Archer?" Adam laughed. "Look, I get that it is the popular thing to do to invite Hollywood's most beautiful to the Navy Ball and stuff, but she is not going to come out to DC for your promotion. Good try though. Now, unless you know another woman who happens to also be named Lila Archer, who is she?"

"Nope, no other woman. I was speaking of the actress. You don't think she would come? I still might ask, but I don't know. She was who I would have wanted if my team couldn't be there. I guess the CO can do it for me again," was the slightly rejected reply.

Adam grinned despite his friend's slight drift towards melancholy. "I have an idea If you are not opposed to it and your Hollywood hottie doesn't make it to town. Can I pin your new rank on? I am sure you remember, what with your crazy good memory, but I offered my old rank stuff to you. It would be nice to be able to pass it on immediately. I mean I won't need it after my new rank gets pinned on. What do you think?"

Spencer brightened considerably at the offer, "You were serious? Thank you. That is a wonderful idea. However, you still haven't addressed what you want to do for the wetting down. I think we both know that the actual promotions will be dictated by the CO rather than anything we want, beyond who does the pinning. What will we wear, khakis?"

"Yes, khakis," Adam said. "You are right, the Skipper will be making most of the decisions on the actual promotion but the wetting down is up to us. I was thinking something along the lines of…"

As Adam launched into a detailed discussion of his party plans, a part of his mind told Spencer that he needed to focus on what Adam was saying. It was his inability to pay attention that had resulted in being tattooed the last time a promotion ceremony occurred. It was difficult though for Spencer to focus. He was finally relaxed, enjoying the sound of his friend's excited voice washing over him. It had been a rough case and so being able to focus on something positive was soothing to the point of intoxication. Spencer decided to indulge in the peaceful moment and just relax.

As he let himself get lost in the moment, Spencer thought about how well deserved Adam's promotion really was. For a Naval Officer, promotion to O4 or Lieutenant Commander was the first competitive promotion. Promoting from Ensign to Lieutenant Junior Grade to Lieutenant was all but automatic based on time served at each rank. To move beyond meant showing sustained superior performance as well as meeting other criteria such as professional registration, schooling, and other accomplishments. It wasn't easy and only around 50% of those eligible were selected to promote each year. That Adam was selected this year showed that he really was more than he seemed.

To those just meeting him, he came across as a bit of a partier and playboy. It was a well crafted mask that Spencer had enjoyed see come down as they had become close friends. The man was actually quite brilliant. Though he had made jokes about Spencer's advanced degrees, he had been working on his own PhD in engineering management at George Washington University when he wasn't working his day job as an engineer for the Architect of the Capitol. Despite being in his mid-thirties, Adam was currently running one of the largest preservation and renovation projects in the history of DC. As for the Navy, he applied almost immediately after graduating from his undergraduate studies to be a reserve CEC officer. He had worked hard, spending the vast majority of his time with one Seabee battalion or another. Given the tempo of training, exercises, and deployments that the Battalions do, it was impressive that he had not yet started to burnout.

Such successes were not without a toll though. Spencer himself was well aware that focusing on success in academics and the workplace could severely impact social growth and progress. For Adam, it was obvious that his dedication to both his civilian job and his Navy Reserve career had a negative effect on his dating life. He had admitted during one of their previous conversations that he had not had any dates since the girlfriend who had dumped him while he was deployed the previous year. Perhaps Spencer was getting a bit soft, but now that he was in such a satisfying relationship with Aaron, he was already starting to think about to whom he could introduce Adam. It was too bad that Adam didn't think that Lila would come out for the double promotion ceremony, the two of them would probably get along quite well.

Despite having enjoyed the opportunity to get lost in his thoughts, Spencer hated to admit that he had not paid attention to a single word that Adam had said in the past few minutes. It was obvious though that from the eager look on his face, he wanted to know Spencer's opinion of the plan. Even without paying attention, Spencer had a very good idea of what the outcome would be if they followed whatever plan Adam had just explained.

"I think that harebrained plan sounds an awful lot like being in violation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, Article 133: Conduct Unbecoming an Officer and a Gentleman," he said starting to laugh.

When he saw that Adam was trying not to laugh himself, Spencer relaxed again and continued on. "Did you know that the term harebrained was first used in 1534…."


	16. Chapter 16

Battalion Life

"You will? Really?" Spencer said into his phone.

His response was met with a giggle. "Of course I will, silly! Why wouldn't I do everything I can to come and see you on your big day?"

"Well, I don't know. My friend seems to think that you are too busy for something as low profile as my promotion ceremony," he explained.

"That is just not true. I don't know why he would think that but I am honored that you want me to be there. Don't friends try to be there for the important events in each others lives? Will your team be there too?" Lila asked.

Spencer's sigh was heartfelt. "They have been invited but I doubt if they will come. We are on call that weekend and inevitably we catch a case when on call. There are just too many serial offenders to ever get time off."

"That's awful! So your lover won't even be there? Well then there is no question at all. You deserve someone to be there to celebrate you. If loverboy can't make it, I will."

"Loverboy? I cannot wait to tell Aaron you just called him loverboy!"

BT

"Raise your right hand and repeat after me,

I, state your name, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God."

Lila couldn't see Spencer's face, but he could see the subtle shifts in his bearing during the ceremony. Even though he had been standing at attention, his body become more rigid and attentive as he raised his hand and repeated the oath. At this moment he looked nothing like the sweet, innocent boy who had captured her heart when he had saved her.

The boy she remembered from those days had a way of slouching and holding himself so as to blend into the background. He was nervous, constantly fidgeting, and barely able to look her or anyone else in the eye for any appreciable amount of time. Now, he was standing tall and proud in front of his unit, his eye contact with the officer administering the oath never wavering. She had truly never been so proud of someone in her life.

Lila's musings were cut short as the end of the oath signalled her portion of the ceremony. She walked forward, well used to being the center of attention, and held out her hand to receive the small collar device in her hand. She then turned towards Spencer and stepped forward to remove the single silver bar to exchange it for the double silver bar of his new rank. Once finished with the task, she placed a light kiss to his cheek and was thrilled inside when his face flushed bright red in embarrassment.

Formal ceremony over, Lila stepped out of the way to allow his friends to congratulate him and the other newly pinned officer. She had come here as promised and after watching and participating in the ceremony, she was glad she had. Spencer was one of her closest friends and deserved to have those close to him celebrating his achievements. Unfortunately between his mother's illness and the fact that he needed to keep his romantic partner a secret, he often wound up alone. That was something she wouldn't let happen again if she could help it.

Seeing him happily swept up in the crowd of his peers, Lila slipped away from the crowd. He wasn't alone right now and she wanted to go and relax before meeting up with everyone for the wetting down.

BT

"You know, you look an awful lot like that actress, what's her name, Lila?" Adam said looking closely at her over his beer. He had finally cornered Reid's friend at a table at the back of the bar. The table they were at offered them both a bit of quiet in the midst of the party happening all around.

Lila studied the man in front of her closely. She knew who he was based off of everything that Spencer had told her. There was something about him that was intriguing, something exciting. He was very easy on the eyes and thus far had proven to be an interesting conversationalist, just as Spencer had mentioned. "So?"

"So, Reid over there said that he was planning on inviting that actress and I told him not to bother. Then you show up looking a hell of a lot like her. I want to know how upset I need to be at the guy."

"How upset you need to be with Spencer?" Lila was thoroughly confused by where Carlisle was going with this topic of conversation.

" Well, it is obvious that you are friends with him and that this isn't some sort of publicity stunt if you are in fact Lila Archer. In that case, I am gonna be supremely pissed off at him for not telling me that he knew you. If you just happen to be a beautiful woman who shares a name and a resemblance with said actress, I'll just be mildly annoyed that he has been hiding such a wonderful woman from me," Carlisle continued. "Now, I need to know how upset I am. Are you the Lila Archer or just a beautiful woman with who I would actually stand a chance of taking on a date?"

"Why not both?" She said with a smile.


	17. Chapter 17

BAU Life

"She never made it off the table."

The words hung in the air, no one daring to breathe, to break the spell. The world around them seemed to have gone absolutely silent. In what was either seconds or hours later, the sound rushed back at all of them.

The words hit Spencer like a physical punch to the gut. "I never got to say goodbye," he said to no one in particular. His unfocused eyes sought out the one person who could comfort him, who was strong when he was weak, who would understand the pain, and with whom he could mourn. Aaron's gaze remained firmly fixed on the floor, only darting up to take quick looks at JJ, as though trying to guess what she was going to say. It wasn't the way that he handled things. He was the leader, he should be taking charge and not following JJ's lead. This wasn't normal, this wasn't right.

Then again, it wasn't right that Emily was gone.


	18. Chapter 18

Personal Life

Emily wasn't the first agent lost in the line of duty. It had been 7 years since they had lost several agents to Bale and his bomb in Boston. They had also had teammates come and go, Elle and JJ most recently. While losing Elle to her demons and JJ to Strauss' manipulations was a blow to the team and its dynamics, losing Emily in this manner was far worse. Each and every one of them knew the dangers of the job. They all knew the possibilities of injury and death that could happen on any given day but pride, hubris really, had insulated them until they acted and even believed that they were invincible. Losing Emily so quickly and violently had shaken all of them to their very cores.

Morgan and Garcia were leaning heavily on each other to share their grief. Their relationship, confusing to everyone but them, was grounding for them as they each waded through their emotions. Although they both tried to act as normally as possible, the act did not hold up to the scrutiny of their profiling coworkers. Garcia wearing fewer bright colors and was less prone to flirt with the team. Her usually chipper mood felt forced and strained. Although she completed all of her assignments without complaint or issue, the enthusiasm she usually brought to the search, the playful jokes and flair she brought to her analyses was missing. On the other end of the spectrum, Morgan had thrown himself into his work. He dug deeper, worked longer, focused more intently than ever before. Many of the extra hours he spent in the office were to not so secretly work the Doyle case. He was rabid with trying to solve this problem while also burying his sorrow as deeply as he could.

As the oldest and most senior member of the BAU, Rossi was no stranger to losing fellow agents. He was reacting with the stoicism born of having buried a friend and coworker too many times. He pulled back slightly from the team, an obvious attempt to try to distance himself from the individuals so that should they befall a similar fate it would be less painful. He, like Morgan, threw himself into his work but much of that enthusiasm went towards his work on the next book rather than cases. He, oddly, was the rock of the team as they dealt with the fallout.

Not seeing JJ everyday made it hard for Spencer or anyone else to gauge her reaction. Spencer tried to spend as much time as he could at her house though, not only because he missed her but also because the innocence of his godson was a soothing balm to his own pain. When he was there, JJ was quiet and supportive but constantly changed the subject when Emily came up. While Spencer could rationalize that as grief, it wasn't sorrow he saw in her eyes as she quickly moved away from discussing anything related to Emily or Doyle, it was guilt.

Of all of them though, Spencer was having the most trouble adjusting to the new status quo. It wasn't just the sudden loss of a dear friend and teammate, but it was also because the behavior of those around him was not consistent with what it should be. This dichotomy had him on edge. He found himself hypervigilant and moody. He also found himself itching and scratching at his inner arms while his mind drifted thinking of all the places where he could score a fix. He wanted the pain of his grief and confusion to end, he wanted peace. Unfortunately, his body's muscle memory thought of peace in terms of being high, no matter how long it had been since he had gotten clean. The cravings were made even worse by the fact that the one person to whom he had always turned when it had gotten this bad was one of the root causes.

Aaron had surprised everyone in the wake of Haley's death and he was doing it again to Spencer with his response to losing a subordinate in the line of duty. Spencer expected Aaron to feel guilt and anger, to become overprotective. Instead, he was moody and withdrawn, seemingly not caring about the team outside of working the case at hand. In his personal life, Aaron's personality had changed dramatically. He had become distant, and quiet, going through the motions of his relationship with Spencer mechanically. It was painful that losing Emily was driving a wedge between the two of them.

From that first moment when Aaron deferred to JJ and remained oddly silent through his insistence to run the grief counseling sessions himself, Spencer knew that Aaron was hiding something. Spencer was loathe to lose the man he loved to that or any other secret. Sadly, he knew that to push for answers would be to push Aaron completely away. And so Spencer waited and watched. He tried to put the pieces together until he could solve the puzzle and hopefully get his lover back.

BT

"Spencer, we need to talk," Aaron said as he walked into the living room where Spencer was reading.

Looking up at his partner Spencer nodded silently and put his book down on the coffee table. In exchange, he picked up his cup of coffee and sat back. He sat there quietly sipping at his drink and waiting for Aaron to speak.

The silence was unnerving for Aaron. He had hated keeping Emily's survival a secret. Even though it had only been two weeks since then, it had already caused a great deal of strain between the two men. Spencer had taken to watching Aaron silently, his face impassive and unreadable. The scrutiny was difficult for Aaron and had caused him to act out of character, fidgeting and rambling in a very un-Hotchlike manner. The conversation they were about to have felt like all of the tension coming to a head. Something in their relationship was going to be fundamentally different by the time they were done talking.

"I've been asked to participate in a joint task force for several months," Aaron started. Seeing that Spencer was waiting for him to continue, he rushed forward. "I will be leaving in 3 weeks to spend at least 4 months in Pakistan. I know it is a long time, I know that this isn't ideal, you just moved in, Emily is gone...and please, Spencer, I don't want to go but it is for the best. I need to do this, I…"

Aaron didn't have a chance to finish whatever thought was on his lips. As he had been rambling he had started pacing and had missed Spencer rising and walking towards him. A hand on his arm had Aaron turning quickly to find himself face to face with his lover who was looking at him with an expression of relief, sadness, and satisfaction.

"Emily is gone, isn't she?" Spencer started..

Aaron nodded tensely, his eyes closed. He hated lying to his partner but this was bigger than him, bigger than both of them.

"She is gone but she isn't dead," Spencer concluded.

Aaron's eyes snapped open to stare at Spencer. Silence reigned in the room while the two men looked at each other, searching, deeply. Spencer broke first, melting at the surprise and relief now etched on Aaron's face, Spencer smiled softly at his lover. "Emily being gone is why you took the assignment to the task force rather than telling them to go stuff it. You can't be around us, around me, and keep up the pretense of Emily being dead and gone rather than just gone."

"How did you know?" Aaron managed to choke out. He was awash with conflicting emotions. While he was relieved that he no longer needed to lie to Spencer, he was scared that he had done something, said something, made some mistake that could cause this whole operation to fail.

"Why do you always forget that you are dating a genius profiler? I know you," he said and wrapped Aaron in his arms. For the first time since Emily was injured, Aaron found himself feeling safe. Feeling the love from the younger man holding him, knowing that he didn't have to lie or hide was overwhelming and Aaron couldn't control the tears that fell. Spencer held the man and gently moved them both towards the couch where they could sit comfortably. Aaron cried for several more minutes, comforted by the strong arms wrapped around him and the freedom to fully express his feelings.

Once the tears had stopped and he was more calm, Aaron looked at Spencer, unsure of how to proceed after all of this but knowing that he couldn't change his course even now. "I...I'm still going to be part of the task force. I can't back out now. Even though you know Morgan, Garcia, Rossi...God, they don't know and it is just too hard to face them. You don't know how much it hurt to lie to the team, to you. I never...I want...Spencer, I don't want to leave you but I can't stay here, I can't stay like this."

Spencer's sad smile seemed to break something in Aaron's heart. "I know that you need to go and why. I know that convincing you to stay here would hurt you more. You can't keep this facade up under the pressure of the profilers. We mean too much to you for you to feel comfortable lying to us. You need the distance, the mission on which to focus."

"And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation," Spencer quoted. "Gibran. I know that I love you and I know that I will learn just how much when you leave."

Aaron's heart almost stopped. Even though he knew he was dating a genius, sometimes even he was amazed at how quickly the young man's mind worked and the connections he could make. Every word that he had said was an echo to his own thoughts when he had heard of the task force. He didn't want to go, but he needed to go. There was a fundamental ache in his soul every time he looked at one of the team members who didn't know the truth. That Spencer now knew was an enormous weight lifted from his shoulders, now he just hoped the damage that had been done in the relationship would be healed. "I don't want to leave you or Jack. I don't want to go but I have to go. You are right, I, I can't do this for much longer. It was killing me to not be able to tell you the truth. I love you, Spencer."

Spencer's grip was just a little too tight, a little too desperate. "Just, just come home to me, Aaron. I know you haven't left yet but I miss you already."


	19. Chapter 19

Battalion Life

"What do you mean there is an error? What error? Everything is written in accordance with the instructions, all the boxes are checked. What is wrong with this?" fumed Spencer as he stared at the ancient computer in front of him. The only response he got was the quiet hum of activity going on outside of the room. He was all alone in the office with the machine and it certainly wasn't going to give him any satisfactory answers.

When he was first pushed into the role of officer in charge (OIC) of this unit, he thought that the easiest part would be the yearly performance evaluations of the sailors. After all, he was only responsible for evaluating the most junior of the sailors as the more senior were done by those above him in the Battalion. What he had not counted on was the outdated and miserable way that the Navy actually completed the evaluations. It sounded reasonable at first, a computer program was used where the "Reporting Senior" checked boxes on a scale of 1 to 5 for various traits and then had a space to write comments and accomplishments. It all seemed very straightforward to him. Unfortunately, the program in use was called NAVFIT98, with the 98 referring to the year the program was launched. 13 years or so later and it felt as though the program had never been updated and it continually crashed any and every computer he tried to use.

Spencer was far from a technophobe, there was no way that he could have survived at CalTech or MIT let alone earn a PhD in engineering while being afraid of technology. He was, however, very sensitive to the flickering of the screens that served as interface with most modern machines. As a general rule he avoided these interfaces in order to avoid triggering migraines. In certain cases though he was willing to break the rule and required paperwork for the FBI and the Navy absolutely qualified for the exception. However, even his reluctant use of computer technology outside of the Navy had him using equipment and platforms that were far more user friendly and powerful than the disaster that was currently in front of him. He was doing his best to reign in his temper but this was not helping in the least. "If only Garcia was here, she would get you working," he groused. "Then again, even she might have problems with how old and glitchy this system is!"

Frustrated at how the program was doing everything but what it should, he pushed the chair away from the desk and walked out of the office in an attempt to calm down. As soon as he stepped from the quiet of the office he was bombarded with the flurry of activity that was a drill weekend. Not for the first time this weekend, Spencer sighed and wanted to turn and hide away in the office again. Drill weekends just weren't the same since LT Carlisle had transferred units. Sure, Spencer was happy that his friend was in a much lower tempo unit and everything was coming up roses for the guy but it just made it that much harder having to deal with the annoyances of life in the battalion.

Really, it wasn't even his friend's transfer which was bothering Spencer. It was Aaron. Rather, it was the lack of Aaron that was bothering him. He had been on the task force for almost 2 months now and Spencer was anxious for him to be home again. Not only was he lonely and horny from lack of sex, but the same issues that had caused Aaron to go running? Just the little ones like having to lie to the team about Emily's death? Yeah, now that Spencer knew he was having to deal with those but not even JJ could know that he knew because he wasn't read in on the operation. So really, life was just one giant ball of frustration for Spencer.

There were a few reoccurring moments of relief to his current frustration though. The first was that Aaron had a lot more access to the internet than either of them had anticipated. Despite not being able to be physically intimate, the two men did have the chance to talk on a very regular basis, using messenger, email, and video chat software. Those moments of being able to look into the eyes of the man he loved without a doubt helped ease the tension. The other high points tended to be one on one time with Jack.

Of course it was also a relief to come to drill too. No one here knew Emily or the situation and so he didn't need to act at all. He could just keep moving forward. When he was at drill he couldn't help but wonder if this was what life was like for Aaron while working on the task force. Sure, his living conditions might not be home, he obviously missed his son and his lover, but right then? Aaron really had nothing to focus on but the mission at hand. He didn't need to worry about grocery shopping, about BAU team dynamics in the wake of the Doyle case, he didn't need to do anything but focus on himself and getting the mission accomplished. To Spencer it sounded almost heavenly. There was just too much about which to worry and focus these days. He needed a break. Maybe he should volunteer to deploy, that would be a break, right?

Laughing to himself at the absurdity of deploying to a warzone in lieu of vacation time, Spencer made his way back into the office he had recently vacated. He could finish these evals and wrap up early for the day. The sailors would love getting done a little bit early just as much as he would. Also, if he was lucky he would be able to catch Aaron when he first woke in the morning and perhaps get a bit of a longer than usual video chat with him. But first, he needed to channel his inner Garcia and get that computer to work!


	20. Chapter 20

Personal Life

Spencer stood just outside the front doors of Bennington nervously playing with the strap of his bag. He had not wanted to make this trip out here, but he also did not have much of a choice. It had been over a year since he had come to visit his mother and her letters were starting to get more accusatory and erratic. She accused him of avoiding her, of siding with the government to keep her imprisoned, of colluding with aliens, and so many others that Spencer had lost track. Her declining mental status was echoed in the conversations he had with Dr Norman and the staff when he called to speak with her. Her lucid days were coming much less often despite changes in medication. She was deteriorating quickly, far more quickly than they would like or had anticipated.

He knew that he should just enter and sign in to start the visit with his mother. He was reluctant to do so. He didn't want to face his mother's declining health and the possibility that it was his future too. He drew a deep breath and opened the door, wishing, not for the first time, that Aaron was with him for this visit.

Upon entering the lobby, he was greeted by the sight of his mother's primary doctor speaking with the receptionist. "Dr. Norman, hello!"

"Dr. Reid, it is good to see you. I am glad that you were able to make it. I know how busy you are with your job, but I do feel like we need to discuss your mother's care going forward," the doctor said upon Spencer's greeting.

"I understand. Do you have a moment now or should I make an appointment with you?"

Dr. Norman checked his watch briefly, "I have a few minutes now. Follow me back to my office."

The walk to the office was done in comfortable silence. The men had known each other since Spencer was 17 and had begun to look for care options for his mother. In the passing years, Dr. Norman had provided regular updates to him. He had also been instrumental in assisting Spencer on several cases where a more practical experience with the mentally fragile was more helpful. It also helped that Dr Norman had never treated Spencer like a child, even before he reached his majority. To this day, the man was one of the few from Spencer's past who didn't forget that he was an adult.

The office they entered was comfortable but also seemed rather bland and generic at first. Spencer had asked about why it felt so impersonal the first time that he had been in there. The answer had surprised him. According to Dr. Norman it was for 2 reasons. The first is that he preferred to spend as little time as possible in the office, preferring to find locations where the patients felt comfortable rather than what made him comfortable. This is why so many of his sessions wound up being in patient rooms or the small garden on the grounds. The second reason was because by limiting the knick knacks, he reduced the possible weapons, to be used for self harm or against him, should one of the patients have an episode during a session. It was true, he admitted, that not all doctors followed either of those beliefs, but he did and it had worked well for him.

The two men sat down with the desk between them before Dr. Norman began. "Dr. Reid, I have always been completely honest with you with regards to your mother's condition. Bottom line is that she is rapidly declining. While it is true that she is having far fewer periods of lucid thought, the decline goes beyond her mental status. We have been forced to steadily increase the dosage of her medications recently in order to maintain the progress we had made with her treatment. Unfortunately, the physical side effects of this regime are starting to worsen. Her kidneys and liver are becoming overtaxed. We will likely need to start her on dialysis in the near future if nothing changes for the better. She has also had symptoms of cardiac arrhythmia. Her heart is becoming far weaker than we would like to see."

Spencer listened as Dr. Norman continued on with the laundry list of issues now plaguing his mother. Part of him wanted to rage at the doctor that it wasn't fair. His mother had never done anything to hurt him or anyone else. Why, why was she suffering like this? She did not deserve the pain and constant fog of medication just to exist. That the treatments that allowed her a few moments of clarity a day were now slowly killing her was pushing Spencer's patience to the limit. He didn't fly into a rage though. Not just because the rational part of his mind was telling him that it would do no good but because he was sitting there too numb with grief to even respond beyond nodding his head. This was his mother, whom he loved dearly. While Dr. Norman had not said it directly, she was dying. He was going to lose the one person who had been a constant in his life.

"As you are aware, with the degradation of your mother's health we will need to move her from her current room to one in the medical unit here. The staff in the intermediate care section in which she has been residing is no longer able to handle the level of care that she requires. I am glad that you are here as I feel that it will be a much smoother transition if you are here to assist."

Spencer just nodded, his gaze down at his hands folded and fidgeting in his lap. He didn't trust his voice just then. Even though he had logically known that this day was coming, it was more difficult than he had anticipated to handle it now that it was here. He took a deep breath and looked up to the doctor, "I will be happy to do what I can. Is she, can I?"

"Of course you can go see her. She was doing reasonably well when I left her after my rounds this morning. You came on a good day." The gentle smile that the doctor wore was a stark contrast to the dire news he had just told Spencer. "Let's go see her and perhaps we can start getting her settled into her new room?"

They both stood and made their way to Diana Reid's room. When they reached her room, Spencer knocked gently and saw his mother turn to see him. Her eyes flashed with recognition and love as she said "Spencer, darling!" and held her arms open to embrace her son.

Spencer didn't even try to stop or hide the tears that flowed down his cheeks as he held his mother. Something was telling him that this was the last time that he would see her and be able to let her know just how much he loved and cared for her.

BAU Life

Spencer's heart was hammering in his chest as he made his way to the conference room. He knew what was waiting on the other side of the door. More accurately, he knew WHO was waiting there.

It had been 3 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days since he had seen Aaron in person. It had been 1 week, 3 days, and 16 hours since he had seen his boyfriend over video chat. It had been a mere 6 hours since he had gotten the phone call that there was a break on the Doyle case and Emily was being resurrected. Now, standing at the threshold of the conference room, Spencer's breath was taken away by the sheer magnitude of his feelings for the man.

Aaron's back was facing the door, his posture just as straight and firm as before. There was a subtle slant to his shoulders that spoke though of how hard the past few months had been for him. As he turned to face the people who had walked into the room, the tension about his eyes and in the set of his jaw that spoke of how difficult this situation was. When his eyes met Spencer's, Spencer could see that the tension was also hiding his fear and panic at revealing to the rest of the team that Emily was still alive.

Spencer wished that he could do something to reassure him. There was nothing he could do though. They had been keeping their relationship quiet and no one knew that he knew the truth about Emily. The secrets had been piling up and Spencer was relieved that this was signaling the end of so many of the secrets. For as much fear as Aaron felt about the reveal, the movement on the Doyle case came as a relief to Spencer as he would no longer need to feel guilty about knowing about knowing.

As he settled into his seat, prepared to be briefed on the case and be 'surprised' at Emily's resurrection, Spencer was just glad that his love was home. They had made it through this, they could make it through anything, right?


	21. Chapter 21

Battalion Life

"Come to the Navy Ball with me this year," Spencer blurted out as he lay panting on the bed next to Aaron.

An exhausted chuckle from Aaron was the first response. "You really need to stop asking me important questions immediately after orgasm, Spencer. You know I can't say no to you after you do what you just did."

"Maybe that is my goal, loosen you up with great sex and then get anything I want. You have officially stumbled across my evil plans to conquer you and the world."

"Oh, I have no doubt that you are an evil genius intent on ruling the world, but how does going to a ball further those goals? Are you going to leave your glass slipper there in hopes that your prince charming will whisk you off to his castle and rule the world at your side?"

Spencer stretched before curling up along Aaron's side. His movements, languid and smooth reminded Aaron of a cat, content to bask on a warm perch. "Mmm...did you know that in the original fairy tales, none of the princes were actually named 'Charming'? It was actually Oscar Wilde who coined the term "Prince Charming" in 1890 in his iconic work _The Picture of Dorian Gray_."

"Spencer…"

"I never did understand how Cinderella was able to walk let alone dance in shoes made of glass. Even well made glass of that period would not have withstood the impact force from walking. The high heeled shoe design most often associated with her slipper would have her weight being distributed over roughly 4 square inches, assuming she walked with a forefoot strike, far less with a heel strike. Various universities and shoe companies have conducted testing and found that the foot is subjected to forces anywhere from 1 to 3.5 times the weight of the person. Though most of these tests were conducted on runners, even assuming that Cinderella was walking and thus the forces she was exerting on her feet were equal to her weight, and assuming a weight of approximately 120 pounds, you would have about 24 to 25 PSI with each step. If she walked with a heel strike at all, she would be putting upwards of 120PSI on the heel, assuming of course that it was an inch square in dimensions. Based on all of this as well as the fact that we know that the chemical composition and forming techniques available at the time the story originated would produce a product that would be far more susceptible to flaws and variations than the processes used to create the glass for which current strength and toughness values are known, she would have been lucky to take a single step before her feet were cut to ribbons. At the very least the shoes would have fractured and been rendered useless…" Spencer trailed off as he saw the indulgent but expectant look that Aaron was giving him. "And you want answers don't you, Aaron? Well, as far as I can see going to the ball means that I get to spend the evening in the arms of my charming prince."

"Your charming prince agrees that it sounds like a wonderful way to spend the evening. Won't doing so cause problems? Won't dancing with me that way get you thrown out of the Navy? Last I heard they didn't think too kindly towards a prince who fell in love with another prince rather than the princess."

"Once upon a time you were right. A new era has dawned and there is not an evil step-mother or wicked witch in sight. Today is September 20, 2011 which means that, according to NAVADMIN 271/11, sexual orientation can no longer prevent someone from serving in the Navy or Navy Reserve," Spencer was practically glowing with excitement. "With the release of this message, the Navy and military have taken a giant step forward. We aren't in Kansas anymore, and that means that it doesn't matter who knows that I'm a friend of Dorothy!"

Aaron laughed at his euphoric lover. "I think you are mixing up your stories. Dorothy certainly isn't a princess but as we are both friends of hers, I will give you a pass on that one. Is this announcement why you jumped all over me as soon as I walked into the house? You wanted to celebrate not having to hide our relationship to the Navy?"

Spencer tried to appear properly chastised but his excitement wouldn't let him. "You don't like my method of celebrating?" he asked pushing himself up so that he was above Aaron. He didn't let Aaron respond to that before capturing his lips in a deep kiss. Aaron eagerly responded to the kiss, perfectly happy with Spencer's methods.

BT

Even though he had been to many a formal function in his lifetime, from dinner parties as part of Ambassador Prentiss' security, galas as a prosecutor, to events as a unit chief in the FBI, none of those had quite prepared him for what he was experiencing right now. Unlike all the others, this was not a work function for him. He did not have to run security checks, schmooze with the right people, or be the face of the BAU to garner continued funding and operations. This was simply a night of dinner and dancing for him. All Aaron had to do was look good and be charming, to be the arm candy for Spencer while he navigated the waters of a formal work function.

With no pressure to perform, Aaron relaxed into the enjoyment of the evening. He firmly believed that if fairytales didn't skew towards images of princesses in fluffy ball gowns, he would say this entire evening had felt like the he was currently starring in his very own. That though would have Dave Rossi cast as the fairy godmother and that was a mental image that he could go for the rest of his life without ever experiencing. Still, it was partially thanks to Fairy God Rossi that the night was going as smoothly as it was. While Aaron's tuxedo had survived the purging and moving process multiple times in the past few years, the requisite bowtie had not been so Rossi's seemingly magical intervention at the last moment, Aaron was dressed and ready to spend the evening with his prince.

Cast in the role of Prince Charming, Spencer was exceeding Aaron's imagination. Knowing that he would likely attract attention with another man as his date, Spencer decided to go all out for the ball. He splurged and purchased the dinner dress blue jacket uniform to wear despite the uniform not being required until he was a Lieutenant Commander. Aaron could see why it was commonly called "mess dress" as it turned him into an absolute mess of hormones when Spencer stood before him fully dressed. The base of the uniform mirrored his own tux, black pants with shining black shoes, crisp white pleated shirt with gold studs and cufflinks, and a sharp black bowtie snug at his collar. The jacket, however, is where the differences began. The Navy's version of this uniform included a short, bolero cut black jacket that hugged Spencer's shoulders and was came together in the front, not buttoning but being held together with a small gold chain between the gleaming buttons on each side of the coat. The bottom of the jacket flirted with the gold cummerbund that accentuated his narrow waist and hips. The jacket was then finished off with twin gold bands at his wrists, topped by the crossed oak leaf and acorn insignia of the Civil Engineer Corps . Finally, the miniature versions of his medals and warfare device adorned his left breast. Taken altogether, with the model like visage of Spencer, the man was utterly breathtaking.

Alone, Aaron and Spencer each drew the appreciative looks of the other attendees. When they came together, all eyes seemed to gravitate towards them. Even discounting being one of the very few homosexual couples at the ball, the two men were a striking couple. They were almost entirely oblivious to the glances and outright staring in their direction. Both men were far too lost in the other to care what was going on around them. From the moment they had walked through the door to now, as they held each other in a close but chaste embrace while dancing slowly as the music and dancing was winding down, their entire attention was solely focused on each other.

Conversation during cocktail hour, dinner, and after had been comfortable but neutral. Those with whom they had been seated were casual acquaintances to Spencer. Not being seated with any close coworkers meant that no long explanation of their history was requested by indignant friends who had been kept in the dark. In fact, no one had commented on his choice of companion for the evening or anything even vaguely controversial. It was both refreshing and frustrating at the same time. They had come prepared to defend to their relationship but were not challenged at all.

After a while, they started to relax and enjoy conversation now, away from the table of fellow Naval officers and dates, away from the speeches, toasts, and away from the ritual of the evening, was intimate and relaxed. The initial nerves of the evening had melted away as everyone had taken them in now, as the final notes to the last song faded away, Spencer rested his forehead against Aaron's and looked deeply into his eyes. "Did I do enough tonight to win the hand of the handsome prince?"

"Yes," Aaron replied with a small smile and a kiss.


	22. Chapter 22

Personal Life

For the past day and a half, conversation had been limited to comments and questions necessary to get both men to the airport and on the plane. Now that they were seated, carry on bags stowed beneath their seats,and safety belts secured, Spencer broke the silence.

"Did you know that in February it only rains for an average of 4 days? Over those 4 days the area could receive as much as 0.75 inches of precipitation making it one of the wettest months of the year," he said quietly.

"Really?" Aaron replied, relieved that he was talking and hoping that an interest in this topic would keep the young man speaking. It appeared to work as Spencer continued to talk about the weather in Las Vegas and Nevada.

"Mmhmm. The average daytime temperature for February is also far more comfortable, usually in the mid-60 degree Fahrenheit range as compared to the summer when temperatures regularly go above 100…" he said softly, with each fact flowing to another one, not all of them related in a way that would make sense to anyone but Spencer.

As he spoke, Aaron held his hand, gently brushing his thumb across Spencer's knuckles. As the plane rose in the air, the recitation of facts slowed down until silence once again enveloped the two. The rest of the trip was completed in the same quiescence.

BT

The weather was everything Spencer had said it could be and more. The city was having an unusually cool and rainy day, but it was fitting. The weather matched their mood as they both stood looking at the wall of the mausoleum. One of Spencer's hands reached to touch the cold marble where the name Diana Reid was etched. The other hand was gripping Aaron's so tightly that it was painful. He said nothing though, knowing the pain in his hand was insignificant to that which Spencer was feeling.

"I wanted her to meet you as my lover," he said suddenly breaking the silence he had held since the flight. "She met you before, the Gardner case, but I wanted her to know Aaron and not Hotch. I wanted her to know that I had found someone who loved me just as much as I loved him. I never got the chance. She didn't even know about you in the abstract because I didn't want to tell her in a letter, this was too personal and too important to not be there to see her reaction in person."

He sighed and shifted so that he was leaning against Aaron, his hand dropping from the wall. "I knew when I came out here over the summer, while you were gone, that I wouldn't see her again. I should have told her then but I didn't." He paused, his voice faltering, "I never even told her I was gay, I...I think she knew, she always said "a mother knows" but I never told her. I didn't want to disappoint her."

Aaron wasn't sure if his reluctance to speak was stemming from not knowing what to say or the lump that was firmly lodged in this throat. "You couldn't disappoint her, she loved you too much. She loved you beyond words. Neither one of you needed to say anything to know that," Aaron attempted as he pulled Spencer closer. He knew that Spencer's world had crumbled when he had received the phone call from Bennington several days ago. What had originally been a romantic trip to celebrate Valentine's Day for the pair had morphed into a memorial service and cleaning out Diana Reid's rooms at the sanitarium. This, her final resting place, was their first stop.

"She used to read to me, you know. Before Dad left, when she was still highly functional. She would read poetry to me. That is how we...we told each other how we felt," Spencer's voice broke. Clearing his throat he went on,"She always quoted William Wordsworth to me, even though he wasn't someone she studied or read often. She loved what he said about poetry: 'For all good poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.'"

The memory brought a small smile to Spencer's lips, "She always encouraged me to write what I was feeling, the way that she did. Did you know that she always had a journal on hand in which to write? She...when she was lucid her writing was beautiful. I want to keep her journals, Aaron. They are really all I have left of her as she was," Spencer finished in a broken voice as his hands clutched Aaron's jacket tightly, almost desperately.

"Spencer, she loved you. Your happiness was all that mattered to her," Aaron spoke softly, holding on as tightly to Spencer as he dared. The thin form in his arms was trembling with unshed tears and grief. "Everything she did was to help you, protect you, and ensure that you were happy. If having her journals gives you some measure of peace and a tangible reminder of her, then why wouldn't you keep them? Are they all with the rest of her things?"

A nod that was felt against his chest more than seen was the response. "Then when you are ready, we will go and gather them. Take your time. Do you want me to stay here or do you need a few minutes alone with her?"

Watery brown eyes met Aaron's gaze. "Can I have a few minutes? Please, don't go far, but...I think I just need a chance to tell her goodbye. Please?"

"I'll be just over there," Aaron said pointing to the end of the wall where a small bench was located. "Take call the time that you need, Love."

As Aaron walked away, his movements were tracked by Spencer. Shivering from the cold and sudden loss of Aaron's warmth, he watched as his partner sat on the bench, facing out on to the grounds of the cemetery at an angle that allowed him to see Spencer without looking at him directly. Heartened by this small gesture of love and concern, he turned his attention back to the wall before him.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I regret not doing more for you, for not being there more. I regret not telling you about Aaron. It is too late now. If there is some sort of afterlife, well, you already know about him and how much he and Jack mean to me. If there isn't then it is just too late," Spencer said, once again tracing the engraved name upon the cold stone. "Standing here to say goodbye to you makes no logical sense. You always tried to get me to remember that there was more to life than logic and science. You reminded me of beauty for the sake of beauty, of courtly love, and chivalry, honor, and courage. You...you did so much for me that I can never repay or thank you for it all. I miss you, Mom."

Spencer stood there for several long minutes. He felt as though he had so much left to say to her but words were inadequate. He gave in to that overflow of emotions as he recited a final poem to her.

"Farwell, of hartes that hart most fyne,  
Farwell, dere hart, hartly to the,  
And kepe this hart of myne for thyne  
As hart for hart for lovyng me."

He stepped away feeling calm and at peace for the first time since he had received the phone call. Aaron was right, she loved him beyond words and he, her. Perhaps, if she could hear him, she would know.


	23. Chapter 23

Personal Life

"I'm deploying."

Aaron looked up from where he was sitting on the couch reading a book. "Deploying?"

Spencer nodded mutely and came to sit next to him on the couch. He pulled his long legs up on the couch and wrapped his arms around them before leaning into Aaron's side. Aaron automatically put his arm around Spencer's shoulders and hugged him close. "Deploying. I'm getting pulled to do an individual augmentation, IA, as an officer in charge of a small unit based out of Iraq. Based on the current deployment rotation, I should be gone for around 13 months total, that includes work ups, time with boots on ground, and post-deployment activities. I should be in Iraq for just under a year."

"This isn't going to be like last time, is it? No chance of contracting anthrax or getting shot and staying home is there?" Aaron asked somewhat hopefully, earning him a bland look of reproach.

"No, I can't let that happen. This isn't something I can get out of again. I hope that you understand that not only do I have to do this, I want to do this. The circumstances aren't the greatest right now, I mean, I got tapped for the individual augmentation because I haven't deployed yet. I would have preferred to go with a Battalion or at least choose and volunteer for a deployment, but the detailer beat me to it. My battalion isn't up on the rotation for a while yet and that made me perfect for this individual mission," Spencer sighed and curled closer to Aaron. "This will be longer than a battalion mobilization and I won't necessarily know anyone else out there with me. It is terrifying and exciting at the same time. I don't know whether to be upset about getting pulled for this or happy that I'm going to get this over with so that I can relax for a bit and not worry that every phone call or email is going to be the notification," Spencer rambled pulling back enough to look at Aaron's face. He paused while he searched Aaron's face, still unsure if he wanted Aaron to be happy or not with everything he had just said. Regardless of how he felt about it, Spencer needed Aaron to be supportive. Even though the excitement of actually getting to put his training to use was intoxicating, he didn't want to leave Aaron or Jack. The three men were just starting to come together as a family and being gone for so long would certainly be difficult. He knew though, even with logic arguing against it, that this was where and why he had joined the Navy. The deployment had been inevitable long before their relationship had actually started and would take precedence no matter how much it hurt.

Aaron's response was to pull him into his lap, holding him tighter than before, and gently kiss his forehead. "I know that this is something you need to do. I don't want you to go but that is just me being selfish. You let me run off and hide in Pakistan for several months. It was hard enough to be away from you for that long, a year without you will feel like a lifetime."

"You are taking this better than I expected. I think you are taking this better than I am," Spencer looked thoughtful for a minute before he continued. "You do know that my commitment in the drilling reserve is up, right? I could in theory put in the paperwork to resign my commission tomorrow or submit a request to go into the ready reserve, IRR, and that would be it. My service, my commitment to the Navy would be over. I would have served honorably, earned some additional benefits including extra time towards my federal retirement. Legally there is nothing stopping me from walking away starting tomorrow."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that even though I could walk away tomorrow, I can't. A very large part of me desperately wants to do just what I said. I'm scared, Aaron. It sounds so easy to just walk away but I don't think that I can. This is not what I signed up for when Garcia brought up the idea. When I joined it was for a lot of really terrible reasons, really, really terrible and immature reasons. I am not saying that they weren't valid, they just base in pure selfishness. Since then this commitment has grown bigger than me. It makes me want to be more selfless in and out of the uniform. It is making me a better person. Maybe it isn't healthy, maybe I still haven't found the right reasons to be doing this, but something is telling me that I am here for a reason. I am doing all of this because it is the right thing to do, the only thing I can and should do right now. This is what they have been training me to do and it needs to be done so I will do it. Service can be selfish and selfless simultaneously and that is ok. The reasons aren't the only thing that have changed, I've changed. Aaron, I love you with all of my heart and soul but I have also come to love what I do with the Navy. I need to see this through. I can't give this up, I just can't. Please, don't make me. Please, don't let me stop myself."

"Spencer, why would you think that I would make you give this up? I have known since the first day you walked into the office to tell Gideon and me that you wanted to join that this was a possibility. Did I expect it to take this long to happen? No. Quite honestly I was expecting you to have deployed a long time ago. Did I expect to be your boyfriend when the time did come? No. Back then, no matter what I felt for you in my heart, I couldn't imagine being able to be with you. But I am and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now. I love you, Spencer, even if that means stopping you from doing something stupid. This, this deployment, isn't stupid."

"I love you too. Which is why it hurts so much. It hurts to tell you that I'll be gone for so long. It just hurts," he said relaxing further into the warm embrace of Aaron.

They sat there, lost in their own thoughts but taking comfort in each other for a long while. The silence was broken when Aaron said softly, "Do you remember what I said when I was telling you that I was being sent to Pakistan? I said that it was for the best, that I needed it. You correctly guessed at the time that it was because I was forced to keep Prentiss' situation a secret. You told me that you understood and that I should go because to hold me back would hurt me more than anything that could happen over there. You said that you loved me no matter what. You said that we would get through the time and distance together. You even quoted Gibran at me, 'And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.'"

"I remember. I remember feeling as though my heart was being shipped off with you. I remember how much it hurt to be the one at home, trying to keep everything together when it felt like my entire world had been torn apart. I remember sobbing on JJ's couch, not for Prentiss even if that is what she thought, but for you. I was terrified on your behalf. I remember coming to grips with the depths of my love for you during that time."

"And in the end I came home. I came home to you. I came home to is the same, you need to go. Trying to keep you here would only hurt you. If it is within my power, I will do everything I can to keep from hurting you. But you, you need to come home to me, to us."

"I will. I promise that I will."


	24. Chapter 24

BAU Life

It was with a sigh of relief that Dave flipped off the light switch in his office and closed the door to his office. It was a Friday night and he had big plans to relax with dinner, wine, and a cigar on the patio. The weather had been beautiful for the past few days and he wanted to take advantage of it before the sweltering heat of summer was upon northern Virginia. Walking down the catwalk and steps towards the elevator lobby he was surprised to hear Reid shout his name.

"Rossi, wait!" the young man said jumping from his desk and racing towards him.

"What do you need, Reid?"

"Well, do you remember back when we were on that case in Utah and you said that I should come over for dinner and to talk about the Seabees? I want to take you up on the offer. Can I come over to talk? Sooner rather than later."

The request was so out of character for Reid and so unexpected that Rossi could do nothing but nod and tell him to come over for dinner that night. A flash of a grateful smile and a "See you at 6!" from Spencer and suddenly Dave was in the elevator headed to the parking garage and wondering how and why his plans for a relaxing night had gotten hijacked.

BT

The sun was setting and sending rays of red and gold through the trees in Rossi's back yard. Spencer was sitting in a chair on the patio, a snifter of brandy in one hand and a Cuban cigar in the other.

"You didn't strike me as the type to actually smoke the cigar," Dave said as he joined Spencer on the patio, his own hands filled with similar goodies. "They are a bitch to get but worth it, aren't they?"

Spencer puffed gently on the cigar and leaned back. "One would think that working in law enforcement might mean that you actually uphold the trade restrictions and not flaunt illegal items like this."

"One would think working in law enforcement that you wouldn't accept or use illegal goods," Dave chuckled. "I didn't think you had it in you, Kid. When I first met you I never imagined you joking around like that; lecturing everyone on the rates of mouth, throat, and lung cancer for those who smoke, yes."

Spencer shrugged and sipped at the brandy in his glass. "I never smoke cigarettes and only very, very rarely indulge in cigars. There are the times though that one just seems appropriate and this is one of those."

Dave raised his own glass, filled with scotch, in a mock salute to Spencer's statement. "Now, it isn't that I'm not enjoying this evening and the discussion of fine cigars, but if I'm breaking out the good stuff I want to know why you wanted to come over to talk. I know you didn't want to shoot the breeze about the history of the Seabees so start talking."

After a few minutes without a verbal response, Rossi looked over at Spencer. In this relaxed environment, it was easy to see that he was conflicted and worried about something. Whatever it was, he had done an admirable job hiding it prior to now. It appeared that he was taking his time and gathering his thoughts. As curious as Rossi was, he also knew that he couldn't rush his teammate. "It's something about Aaron, isn't it?" he prodded.

"It is and it isn't," Spencer replied slowly. "You know I've always been a big fan of yours and getting to work with you was a dream come true. Since then our relationship has grown from idol and fan to teammates and colleagues, to friends. It hasn't hurt that you have always been close to Aaron and that has pushed our friendship along as well. Now, you are the only one on the team who knows about my relationship with Aaron and," he paused to take a deep breath, "and you have been to war."

Dave's eyebrows were suddenly doing their best to reach his hairline but rather than immediately start questioning where Spencer was going with these thoughts, he prodded gently, "Go on."

"I received a phone call last week that I'm deploying to Iraq later this year. When I got off the phone, I told Aaron."

"Iraq, huh? I was not expecting to hear that. I take it Aaron didn't react well? He hasn't said anything to me about it nor has he seemed particularly upset with you at the office. I know he likes to repress things in order to maintain his persona, but this?" Dave started.

"Oh no, no no! Nothing like that! Aaron has been nothing but supportive of me," Spencer almost cut Dave off in his rush to defend his boyfriend. "I….well, I'm worried about him, about us. How will we handle this separation? I'm also worried about being over there in general."

Rossi looked at the glass of scotch in his hand and mentally kicking himself for not just bringing the bottle outside. "You are full of surprises tonight, Dr. Spencer Reid, full of surprises. I'll be right back," he said leaving the genius alone with his thoughts while he went in search of the bottle.

When he returned, with a bottle of scotch and another of brandy in hand, Spencer was taking a sip of his drink and another pull on his cigar. "I'm not trying to be surprising. I'm just looking for advice from someone who understands. On top of being afraid of losing or hurting Aaron, I'm scared of deploying. Even though we aren't technically at war over there right now, pulling out of the country doesn't mean that the danger automatically stops."

"No, you are right. The danger doesn't stop just because a politician says that it is over," he readily agreed with Spencer's statement. "Though, from what is mentioned on the news there is enough of an infrastructure over there that it should be less dangerous than some of the situations you get into with the FBI."

"In that case, it doesn't take much to be less dangerous. How did you handle it? How did you get through it?"

Dave sighed and refilled his empty glass. "It was a different time and I was a different person. I was too young and stupid to realize what I was doing until I was there. Even then, I wasn't always aware of what was going on around me enough to be scared, especially in the beginning it was nothing more than a grand adventure."

"Looking back on it, I have to say that I just did. I didn't overthink it, I just kept going one day at a time. Again, it helped that I was young and felt like I was invincible."

"I certainly don't feel invincible," Spencer muttered. "What's funny is that it was just a few years ago that I was the one giving the pre-deployment pep talk to my friend, Adam before he deployed. I told him that fear wasn't a bad thing, that it could help keep him sharp."

Spencer paused to take a sip of his drink before continuing much more quietly. "I also told him that dying wasn't nearly as scary as it seems."

"And you know this how?"

"It was before your time on the team. An UNSUB, Hankel," he said quietly. "He, well, he killed me and then revived me." Spencer shut his eyes and Dave knew that the young man was reliving in full and glorious detail the time he spent at the UNSUB's mercy.

Dave's heart ached for the man sitting next to him. To have already done and endured so much at such a young age. It didn't seem right or fair that he should now be asked to do more. Yet, here they were, both trying to wrap their heads around just such a summons.

"I'm glad I didn't have to witness that," Dave said roughly. "Did you get the UNSUB?"

Spencer nodded absently, draining the brandy in his glass before holding it out to be refilled from the bottle at Dave's hand. "I shot him."

"Good. So you know the worst that can happen. You are also smart enough to know that you aren't invincible and won't be stupid out there. You won't do anything stupid, will you? I swear to God, Reid if I have to help Aaron bury someone else I might just resurrect you and kill you myself."

"It's not the same. Haley was his wife, even if they had already divorced by then. I'm not."

"Why not? If you like it, you should put a ring on it. Besides, getting a ring on his finger would certainly help calm him down while you are gone," Dave muttered, smirking at how his pop music reference seemed to have gone over Spencer's head.

Spencer didn't say anything for a few minutes. Dave might have been joking about the ring and marriage but it spoke to something buried deep in Spencer. He had always wanted to be loved, to be married, to have a family. He knew that he loved and was loved by both Aaron and Jack, that they were his family but there was something missing. Was it the ring? The formality of marriage? Would Aaron even want to get married after the debacle that was his marriage to Haley? It wasn't as though gay marriage was even legal in that many places. The Navy, while recognizing the partnership would do little more than allow him to designate Aaron as a beneficiary of life insurance policies and the like. Aaron would get no recognition or consideration as a spouse if something were to happen to him while deployed. Still, the thought was tempting. Having any kind of legal status with Aaron before he put himself in harm's way was almost irresistible.

Spencer shook his head to clear those thoughts and questions away for the moment. It was something he needed to think about but now wasn't the right time. Brought out of his thoughts, he allowed himself to get lost in conversation with Dave. The topic had shifted from the deeply serious to more mundane and lighthearted.

Despite having the change in conversation, neither man made any move to conclude the evening. As the sun finished its descent and the stars began to dot the sky, both men sat there soaking up the conversation, alcohol, and comfort of the other.


	25. Chapter 25

Personal Life

"Oh, God, Aaron, yes!" Spencer moaned as he felt his partner's muscles flutter and contract around him. The feeling of Aaron orgasming was too much and with a deep groan, Spencer followed his lover over the edge. He collapsed, boneless, in a blissful haze on top of him.

Without withdrawing, Spencer rolled to his side and pulled Aaron even closer and nuzzled into his neck. His erratic breaths puffing against the flushed skin of Aaron's neck had him chuckling and squirming at the ticklish sensation. "Mmm...so good, so perfect. Mine."

"Yours," Aaron agreed pushing back slightly against Spencer causing the younger man to sigh with contentment and wrap his arms possessively around Aaron.

Basking in the warmth of the moment, Spencer's thoughts strayed back to the conversation he had with Dave a few days earlier. This moment right here is what he wanted, now and forever. He wanted Aaron body, heart, and soul in the same way that he wanted to give himself to Aaron. Before he could stop himself, Spencer broke the silence. "Be mine, forever. Marry me."

Aaron stiffened as the words were ghosted across his back. Spencer immediately noticed the change in posture. Worried, he pulled back, moving his body away from Aaron's so that the men were no longer touching but still unable to see the others' face. "Aaron?"

"We have never talked about getting married," the tone was neutral. The complete absence of emotion had Spencer nervous, worrying his lip between this teeth. "Why now?"

"Would you believe it is because you are so good in bed?" Spencer joked feebly. When he got no response from Aaron he continued. "It's because I love you and I don't want to lose you. I know you probably don't want to get married after Haley, after all she was your first love and that didn't end well. Not to mention that we can't even get married here in Virginia, we would need to go to DC to get married. There really are no benefits to marriage, even with the Navy and FBI not discriminating against homsexuals, neither organization recognizes the civil unions or marriages which means that nothing would actually change with regards to paperwork or anything...but i want you to know I'm fully committed to you, to us. I love you, Aaron and I want to show and tell the world how I feel. I also know that I would feel better if...well, if something happened to me while I'm gone."

Aaron's posture softened slightly, "You have thought about this quite a bit, haven't you?" His tone remained neutral, not giving Spencer any indication to what he was actually thinking.

"Almost continuously since I went to Dave's the other night. He made a comment about 'if I like it then I should put a ring on it,' and I don't just like you Aaron, I love you. I never want to experience life without you again."

"But you are willing to make me experience life without you?"

Spencer pulled back from Aaron as though he had been slapped. "What do you mean? Are you upset that I'm deploying? I thought you supported me in this, Aaron. I thought you understood."

With a sigh, Aaron rolled on to his back so that the two were finally looking at each other. "I do understand and I'm trying to support you. I just don't know how to do it. I'm scared that I'll be left all alone again. I don't know that I can handle losing you. It hurts that you don't seem to feel as scared as I am."

"Aaron, Love, you aren't making any sense. I'm not scared? What do you mean? Besides, you aren't losing me. How would you lose me? I don't understand," confusion was written all over Spencer's face as he searched Aaron's for answers.

"I'm scared I'm going to lose you. You seem so calm about the whole deployment and going off to war. Iraq isn't exactly safe right now and I don't even want to think about life without you."

"Aaron, I am in no way calm about deploying. I just know that it is something I need to do and it will be done. I am scared, more than you will ever know. Talking to Dave helped a bit. It is also what made me realize that I WANT to be married to you. I want you, and Jack, to be my family, officially, legally, and in every way that is possible. Marry me. I know there are challenges to it, that it won't be the same as your marriage to Haley, but marry me. You won't lose me, even if you say no. I would move heaven and earth to be with you in any capacity that you want, no matter what."

Aaron closed his eyes, his resolve crumbling slowly under the words flowing from Spencer. He was unwilling to look into the expressive depths of his lover. "Why do you always ask me for favors and big questions right after sex?"

"Honesty," was the succinct reply.

"You don't think I would be honest with you if you asked me over a cup of coffee? At dinner? At any time other than immediately after sex?"

Spencer sighed and took the chance to curl up against Aaron, resting his head on the strong chest. "I do trust you to be honest but it is different," he paused.

"How is it different? The truth is always the truth."

"There are different sides to the same truth. It is different because in here, in these moments you are answering as Aaron Hotchner. You are giving me YOUR answer. You aren't giving me the answer as Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief. You aren't giving me an answer as Aaron Hotchner, Jack's Dad. You aren't giving me an answer as Aaron Hotchner, lawyer. You are giving me an answer as YOU. While I fell in love with every single one of those Aaron's I just mentioned, my heart belongs to you, the you that is only available when all other barriers and responsibilities are on the other side of the bedroom door. The you that I am laying in bed with is not the same you that will be presenting a case to the team tomorrow, or helping Jack build a diorama for school. The Aaron that I am asking to marry is the one in my arms right now and THIS, this is the only time that I can guarantee that he will be the one answering."

As Spencer had spoken, the last of Aaron's hesitations crumbled down. He knew in that moment that Spencer truly understood him, understood the masks he was forced to wear, the fears he had, and simply understood him in a way that he never thought possible. Beyond the understanding was the love, love for all the parts and faces of Aaron that he knew and those that he didn't. He loved him. Spencer Reid loved Aaron Hotchner. Time, distance, war, peace, nothing was going to change any of that. Spencer was right, as usual, in this moment he could answer as himself and for himself and he knew what he wanted. In that realization there was only one response he could give:

"Yes, yes I will marry you.

BT

"I didn't even know that a marriage could be done so quickly outside of Vegas," Aaron said as he gripped Spencer's hand a bit harder than normal. The two men had taken an extended lunch break to head into DC. While Aaron had thought that they would be going to obtain the marriage license as DC has a 10 day waiting period from license to wedding. However, while they were en route to the Moultrie Courthouse, Spencer told him that they would actually be wed that day.

"While it is not normally the case, I pulled in a few favors," Spencer started.

Looking at his soon-to-be-husband with eyebrows raised in question, "You were owed favors by someone who could fast track a marriage application? Why, Dr. Reid, I do believe that there is a story there that you owe me."

Spencer waved it off and continued. "Yes, I called in a few favors, not a big deal. Bottom line, I called in the favors and now all we need to do is head into the courthouse and complete the last of the paperwork." Suddenly nervous, he looked at Aaron. "Umm, that is if you are ok with it? I didn't stop to ask if this is what you wanted. I just assumed that you wouldn't want to make a fuss over this. I mean, we haven't told anyone other than Dave and Jessica that we are even dating. Marriage is a big step and…"

A kiss quieted the rambling genius. "Shh, I don't care about the wedding, I have had the hoopla of a large wedding before and won't miss it. I just don't want you to have regrets. Are you sure that you won't regret not having something more festive than a meeting in an office?"

"I've always held that large weddings are more for the attendees than those getting married. I only care that I am getting to marry you," Spencer said with a quick shake of his head.

"Then, Dr. Reid, shall we go and get married? I've been thinking about how we will celebrate our wedding night since you proposed to me."

Spencer's smile was more brilliant than the sun that was shining.


	26. Chapter 26

BAU Life

Spencer bit back his tears as he held Emily in his arms, swaying gently under the sparkling lights. He had never seen her look as beautiful or as lost as she did in that moment. No words were exchanged as the two held each other a little closer, a little tighter. He knew that he was losing her, that they were all losing her in that moment. She had not been back for long and at times it felt as though she had not come back at all.

When Emily laid her head upon his chest, he looked up to catch Aaron's eye. He looked just as broken as Spencer felt. Their shared pain was acknowledged wordlessly.

As the song ended and flowed into the next. Partners were exchanged and with each dance, it became clear to everyone else that this was not just a celebration of JJ and Will, but also Emily's goodbye.

One by one the friends and family of JJ and Will that had come to the wedding left. The team and Will were the only ones remaining. Noticing that, Will excused himself to check on Jack and Henry who were asleep in the guest room leaving just the BAU team.

For too short of a time, they all stood there talking and basking in the warmth and happiness of the occasion. It didn't matter what was said or who said it, all that mattered was that they were together, as a family. At that moment, Spencer was grateful for his eidetic memory.

Aaron, Spencer, and Jack were the last leave Dave's home. During the short drive home, neither man spoke. They sat next to each other, lost in their own thoughts. Aaron's naked left hand on the steering wheel an aching reminder to him of a time when he could wear a golden band proudly. Spencer held Aaron's right hand a little too tightly, and kept his right hand curled around the ring on a chain that lay over his heart.

The silence followed the family into the house. After safely tucking Jack into bed, the two men retired to the master bedroom. Finally alone, Aaron's voice broke the stillness, "Make love to me, please." 

With his heart thumping loudly in his chest, Spencer reached out to take his husband in his arms. It started with a slow, gentle kiss but Aaron wasn't willing to be patient. With a growl, he pushed himself flush against Spencer's body and turned the chaste kiss into something deep, dark, and desperate. Spencer's reluctance broke, he returned the kiss with equal fervor.

The two men divested themselves and each other of clothes. Not caring where or how, they were quickly naked and attacking each other with kisses and bites. Hands roamed over naked flesh, marbled in the moonlight, soft sighs, and moans seemed impossibly loud in the silence of the house. Aaron and Spencer came together, with equal parts fear, desperation, love, sadness, and hope. This wasn't just making love or sex, this was proof of life, proof of love.

They lay together, limbs and bodies still tangled from their exertions, hearts still racing, and together they cried. They cried for their friends who were finally married, they cried for their friend who was leaving them, they cried for themselves, unable to share their marriage. They found solace and strength in each other as together they drifted to sleep.


	27. Chapter 27

BAU Life

"Round table in 5," Hotch said as he stepped out of his office followed by Reid who kept pace as they both moved to the conference room. In the bullpen, Derek and JJ were looking at each other in confusion.

"Do we have a case? Derek asked.

Looking just as bewildered as her friend JJ shook her head. "No, I don't know anything about any cases. We are scheduled to be in the office this week. It would have to be something pretty big to warrant bypassing the usual channels and take us back to the field during our week off rotation."

"Maybe it is personal? Reid did look upset when he followed Hotch into the conference room. Want to get Rossi? I'll call Garcia and get my Baby Girl up here. Maybe she knows what's going on," Derek said with the phone already in his hands to dial the number to Garcia's lair.

With time to spare, the entire team was assembled around the table and waiting to see why they were gathered. The team was not having much luck waiting patiently, only Hotch and Reid looked at all comfortable but even then it seemed forced. The two men stood by the window talking softly. Hotch's posture was one of practice poise, he didn't appear to be in trouble or upset, but his body was obviously ready for action. Next to him, Reid's posture was relaxed despite his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his vest more than usual. The twitching seemed to go hand in hand with the air of resignation he was exuding. Together, the two men looked as though something big had happened and they were afraid of how the team would react.

Seeing the entire team was now gathered, Hotch and Reid moved towards the table. Reid immediately took his usual seat and Hotch remained standing at the final chair. "I won't waste your time, I know we have a lot of paperwork to get through this week while we are in the office. Reid, the floor is yours," Hotch said moving to sit in the chair. He folded his arms and waited while the lanky agent unfolded himself and stood, his bearing no longer showing surrender but apprehension.

"Umm, mmhmm, well," he cleared his throat. "I'm not sure how to say this exactly. As you all found out a few years ago while we were on that case in Utah I've been serving in the Navy Reserve. Since its inception, the Navy Reserve has served many roles for the Navy, most recently and currently the reserve forces serve as a source of operational depth and manpower. A common way of using this resource has been the augmentation of active units with reserve forces, some in the form of entire battalion and regiment sized forces and others as small as an individual. These individuals are chosen for a number of reasons, algorithms dealing with abilities as codified in NECs, AQDs, or…"

"Spence, what are you trying to say?" JJ interjected before he could continue listing what was likely to be a complex set of variables that were already making no sense to those gathered.

" Oh, um, another way to say it is that sometimes they need individuals with certain skill sets, usually defined by the rate or designator of the Sailor and they try to select those with the proper skills that either haven't deployed before or who have been home for a sufficient time since the last deployment as defined by Navy policy. So, what I'm trying to say is that my designator, what I do in the Navy, is needed in support of an operation overseas and...well, I'm deploying." The last part was barely audible as he scrambled to get back to his seat.

"Deploying? What are you talking about? I thought you had gotten out of the Navy," Garcia asked cautiously when she saw that everyone still seemed very confused.

"Yeah, Kid, didn't you get out after we found out about it? What does this mean that you are deploying?" Derek questioned.

Reid sighed, he had not been looking forward to telling his teammates about his upcoming deployment. Really, he didn't like to tell them much about his military service at all. Sometimes he wondered if they even remembered that he was still in the Navy. As he had promised Gideon and Hotch years ago, he would do everything he could to not let his reserve time interfere with his commitments at the FBI. He spent a lot of time de-conflicting his schedule and as such, it had been a long time since it had even come up as an issue or conversation topic in the office. With it out of sight, it was clearly out of mind for the team, by their expressions they had obviously fallen back into the routine and mindset that the youngest member of their team had not matured and changed over the past few years.

"I'm deploying," Spencer stated. Even he wasn't sure if the resignation in his voice was due to his acceptance of the deployment or the fact that his team still didn't see him as anything more than the clumsy, kid genius. "I will be doing an individual augmentation overseas, in this case acting as an officer in charge of a small unit of sailors with construction skills, Seabees, in order to support other missions."

"You are deploying? Do you know where you will be going?" JJ asked cautiously, her own mind racing with memories of her time in support of military operations.

"Um, right now I'm slated for a position with a unit in Iraq. I don't know much more than that right now."

Garcia's eyes started to glisten with tears,"Oh, my junior G-man, Iraq? You're going to war?"

"Technically, we aren't at war. War has not been declared since 1942. We have been involved in activities of military force since then, and yes, that is why I will be deploying."

"You could get hurt! No, no you can't go!" Garcia said forcefully. "This wasn't supposed to happen. It is the reserves! I thought you would spend your time at a nice safe base here in the states, maybe do it for a few years to show everyone that you could be a badass as well as a genius and then you would be done! No, no, no. You can't go, you can't! What if you get hurt?"

By end of that speech, Garcia was sitting limply in her chair, tears streaming down her face. "This is all my fault, isn't it? I was the one who talked you into joining the Navy. This is all my fault."

"Garcia, there is no fault here. If there was, it would be mine. I chose to do this, I chose to keep doing it, and I'm choosing to follow through with the commitment that I made. This is not your fault." Spencer tried to remind her gently.

"But what if you get hurt? What if something happens to you?" she countered.

He closed his eyes, he had already had that thought himself. He wasn't sure that he could provide her with a good answer when he himself was trying to find one. "Then I get hurt. Look, I get hurt all the time on the job here, would it be so different? Remember the gunshot to the knee? Anthrax? And others? What I do every day with the team here is probably more dangerous than what I will do over there."

"But Kid, you have us here to have your back. We won't be over there with you," Derek pointed out.

"Which is exactly why I need to know that you will have my back here at home. I can't do this alone even if I am the one who is leaving. I need to know that you guys will be there for me,"

JJ stood up and walked over to Spencer. She pulled him into a hug, "Always, Spence, always. Anything you need, say the word."

Spencer smiled into JJ's hair as they hugged. "You mean it?" he said, his face taking on a rather sheepish expression as he pulled back.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't."

"Can you and Garcia send me cookies? You both make really good cookies," he said. "Please?"

"Ohh! Care packages! We can send you care packages!" Garcia gushed. Her tears from earlier were wiped away as she began to plot her mail. Looking at her it was obvious that she was starting to map out a schedule of who would be sending packages and when. Spencer was even half convinced that she was going to go home and start baking cookies that night, provided they didn't catch a case.

Suddenly, he was being peppered with questions about his deployment and what he wanted in care packages. As he answered the questions of the team he couldn't remember why he was nervous about telling them. Well, he had forgotten why he was so nervous until he looked up and caught Aaron's eyes. It was then that he remembered the OTHER bit of news that they wanted to tell the team. It was that piece of information that had Spencer worried about the team's reaction. In his mind, breaking the fraternization policy at the office was worse than going to war.

"Oh, uh, guys? One more thing," he began but quickly stopped himself as he saw worried looks cross their faces. "Oh, oh! No, nothing bad and nothing to do with deployment! No, no, this is a good thing. I, well, we thought that we should let you know that..uh…" All of a sudden, Spencer couldn't find the words to finish the thought. "You see it all started...no, well, it did start then but it wasn't until. Um, so funny story…"

"What Spencer is trying to say is that he and I have been in a romantic relationship for the past two years," Aaron finished for him.

Silence reigned after Aaron's announcement. All comments and questions about Spencer's deployment ended.

"What the hell, Spence?" JJ said. "Is he joking? You and Hotch? You're gay?"

"Yes, Aaron and I. Really, I would classify at least myself as homosexual, Hotch with his past sexual partners certainly aligns more closely with the standard definition of bisexual. However as we are currently in a monogamous homosexual relationship 'gay' is also appropriate for both of us," Spencer responded. "Using the generally accepted 'Kinsey Scale' of sexuality, most people do not fall on the hard lines of either hetero or homosexual. The lines of sexuality are often fluid, changing over one's lifetime even. Though much can also be said about how initial love maps also influence sexuality…." he continued on, falling back on his broad knowledge to fill the uneasy silence with technical background on human sexuality and relationships.

"Whoa, stop it right there, Pretty Boy! We get it, no one is perfectly gay or straight and nature, nurture, and so on. I don't give a damn about that. I'm just upset that neither one of you told us. You know we would have had your back with Strauss. Shit man, what are you going to do about her?"

"That is already taken care of," Rossi spoke up for the first time. "I took over as his supervisor a long time ago, ostensibly to allow Aaron more time with his son but really it was to prevent any potential accusations of favoritism when they decided to let their relationship be known."

"So why now? Why couldn't you have told us before?" JJ asked, almost pouting. "And why Hotch?"

"Why now? Because I'm deploying and I'm leaving my significant other for what is likely going to be more than a year. I remember how difficult it was for the few months when Aaron went to Pakistan. Remember, JJ? I was at your house almost every night and not all of my tears were for Emily. I want to make sure that he is going to have the same support that I thought I had. Except for him, he won't have the cover of the death of a close friend to use as an excuse to seek comfort and support."

"That hurts, Spence. I thought we had gotten past it," JJ snapped.

"We did but that doesn't mean that it didn't happen. Just because I forgive you and we have moved on with our friendship doesn't mean that the past was erased. I don't want to open old wounds but I also want to make sure that Aaron is taken care of while I'm gone," Spencer replied firmly.

"And Aaron is also a big boy who can take care of himself," Aaron interjected trying to stop the two friends from arguing. "Though, I do agree that his leaving is what gave us the final incentive to tell the team. We had been planning on doing it for a while but kept getting interrupted. Speaking of interruptions," he said as he pulled his vibrating phone from his belt clip and stood up.

That seemed to quiet JJ down, though Spencer could still see the tense set to her shoulders. He made a mental note to talk to her later, when the rest of the team wasn't around. He really didn't hold her actions against her any more but he was also unable to forget what had happened.

Looking away from JJ, he glanced at his teammates, his friends, gathered around the table. Rossi was sitting back in his chair discussing with Derek exactly how they had gotten around the Strauss road block thus far. Aaron was standing by the window talking intently to the person on the other end of the line. Garcia was just sitting there quietly, fiddling with her fluffy pen topper. "Garcia? Are you ok?"

"I knew you and Hotch were together," she blurted out as soon as Spencer said her name.

"What?"

"I knew you and the Bossman were dating. I've known for a long time, like a really long time, like, probably as long as Rossi has been doing your evaluations long time."

"And you didn't think to tell me, Baby Girl?" Derek asked.

"It wasn't my secret to tell! I found out by accident and I wasn't even 100% sure if they were dating."

"What gave us away?"

"You stopped at an ATM," she said. "Well, you stopped at an ATM that has a camera that feeds into the city's facial recognition library. I was a running software program, testing it, seeing what it could do, and your face popped up at the ATM. Your face popped up kissing Bossman's face to be precise. But neither one of you had said anything here and you didn't seem to act differently around each other and well, like I said, it wasn't my secret to tell."

"Thank you, Garcia. I appreciate you waiting until we were ready. Unfortunately, any more discussion on this is going to have to wait, we have a case. Garcia, the files are being sent to you from the local authorities. JJ, this is already getting some press in the area. I know you are no longer our media liaison but I'd appreciate a hand with them on this. Everyone, grab your bags and meet on the jet in 30. We will brief in the air on our way to Minnesota," Aaron said snapping everyone back to the reality that they were at work.

In the blink of an eye everyone was focused solely on the task at hand. All discussions of Spencer's deployment and the relationship revelation were put on hold. They all moved quickly and efficiently, falling into the practice routine of gearing up for the case. Answers to all of the questions, time to digest the news that they had learned, all of that would eventually happen. Right now though, they needed to focus on the case.


	28. Chapter 28

Battalion Life

As the shrill ring of the phone sliced through the darkness, both men reached automatically towards their nightstands to fumble for their phones. Aaron was the lucky one and barked out a rough "Hotch" as he answered the phone.

Spencer, now awake kept part of his attention on his husband and the rest to finding his own phone. His phone flashed the time of 2:43 AM at him causing him to groan and let his hand holding the phone flop back down on to the bed where he was still laying. The familiar conversation snippets of Aaron being given a case overview had him slowly starting to pull himself out of the comfortable bed. He looked over, jealous that Aaron seemed to have no problem going from deep sleep to fully awake as he was already standing and walking towards the closet to pull a suit and go bag from its depths.

While tracking Aaron's movements with an appreciative eye to his body, Spencer's eyes fell on his own bags that were packed and sitting, waiting, on the floor by the closet. The sight of those bags had him sitting up on the bed and wrapping himself tightly in the blanket. Those bags weren't his usual go bags but his seabag and dufflebag, packed with everything he thought he would need for Iraq. Aaron was supposed to have today off to take him down to the airport so that he could travel down to Norfolk, VA to check in for his deployment.

By this time, Aaron had hung up the phone. He had stopped in front of the closet as he stared at Spencer's bags piled there. He turned to face his husband, the planes of his face a study in agony in the shadowy light. "Spencer," he breathed. "No, no. There's a case, a child abduction in San Antonio. The team is needed out there."

Spencer curled into himself and the warmth of the blankets just a bit more. "I heard. Go, that family in Texas needs you."

"You need me too. I promised that I would take you," Aaron said, torn between his love for Spencer and his duty.

"I'm a big kid, Aaron. That child needs you more right now," the words, no matter how much Spencer believed them, burned in his throat as he said them. A large part of him wanted to cry and rant that he needed Aaron, that he wanted Aaron to be with him for the last few hours that he would be home. Instead, he simply quirked his lips in an approximation of a smile, "I'll be home before you know it. Now go, we both know the first few hours after a child abduction are the most crucial."

Aaron could see how much those words were cutting into Spencer, but he still said them and believed them. Aaron smiled softly at his husband. No matter how much time they spent together, Spencer could still surprise him with the depths of his courage and selflessness. "I love you, Spencer Reid."

"I love you, Aaron Hotchner," he replied, hoping that the tear that slid down his cheek would be lost in the shadows.

Aaron looked away then, knowing that Spencer would not want his tears acknowledged. He swiftly gathered his clothes and headed to the bathroom to get ready. All too quickly, he was finished and walking across the bedroom towards Spencer who had not moved from his position on the bed. He dropped the bag from his hands and sat down next to the man he loved.

When Spencer felt the dip of Aaron sitting down on the bed, he turned from where he had been looking out the window to meet Aaron's eyes. He let himself be pulled into a hug as he breathed in the scent of soap, cologne, and musk that was indescribably, perfectly Aaron. Feeling a bit like the child he claimed not to be, Spencer gripped the lapels of Aaron's suit a little too tightly as he leaned up for a kiss.

While chaste, the kiss was the perfect culmination of the love the two men shared. It was soft, sweet, and said everything that needed to be said. Pulling away, Aaron looked at the man in his arms, "Come home to me, Love."

"I will," whispered Spencer as he released his grip. "I will."

There was nothing left to say and Aaron stood, squared his shoulders and in an instant turned from the loving husband Aaron to the hard and determined Agent Hotchner. He picked up his bag and was out the door with only a brief flash of love and longing as he left the room.

Spencer stayed where he was, cocooned in the blankets that still smelled of them until the first rays of sunlight crept into the room.


	29. Chapter 29

BAU Life

Aaron was dreading going into the office this morning. Just over a week ago he had been called out for a missing child case and had missed the opportunity to take Spencer to the airport for his deployment. Even though he had hoped the case would be fast, it wasn't; it took a week and three more children being taken and killed before they were able to stop the abductor. He had gotten home from the emotionally draining case to an empty house. Now he was heading into what he considered an empty office, Spencer wasn't going to be there.

Arriving at his usual early hour, he wasn't surprised to see the bullpen quiet and empty, the case had been difficult for everyone and they were likely procrastinating on coming back as well. That is why he was so shocked by what he saw when he looked towards the conference room from the bullpen. What had once been a comfortable if somewhat austere in a government issue way room was filled with color and stuff.

He hurried towards the room, terrified of what Strauss would think if she saw this display. It was quite the display too, multiple neon poster boards lined the walls, each painstakingly crafted and embellished with glitter, stickers, and were those rhinestones? Garcia, it had to be Garcia behind all of this. Thankfully he could see her figure bustling around the back of the room, adjusting one of the posters.

"Garcia, what is going on here?"

"Oh! Bossman! You are early!" she yelped in surprise. "This was supposed to be a surprise for you and I'm not done yet"

Looking around Aaron said dryly, "Not done yet? What is left?"

"Oh, there is so much left to do! This wall over here is the letter writing schedule for our own Junior G-man o'war. I'm just working on hanging up the care package schedule now. Once I get these posted then we can start putting together the care packages themselves. I thought it would be fun to have themed boxes for him." she responded, either oblivious to or ignoring the disapproving look he wore. "Just look! Don't you think that he is going to love this?"

She gestured towards the table where a number of seemingly random items were laid out for inspection. From where he stood, he could identify most of them. There was a plastic container of what could only be homemade cookies, complete with the recipe taped to the top of the box, a small pile of gently used paperback books, several pairs of men's flip-flops, a beach towel, and if his eyes were not deceiving him, a small set of plastic kids sandcastle tools. "What is all of this?"

"This is the start of the first package that I'm sending to Reid. It has everything he needs for starting things off on the right foot!" Garcia started gushing. "Well, he kept calling it the sandbox and so I thought I would give him something to play with while there," was her reply when Aaron raised up the plastic shovel and bucket combination.

Aaron simply shook his head and started walking out of the room. "Make sure that Strauss doesn't see the room looking like this. And, on Spencer's behalf, thank you."

BT

He had only arrived in country yesterday. He barely knew his own address out here and yet he had received a package during mail call earlier in the day. Having hastily stashed it on his rack, he was so anxious to see what Garcia had sent. He knew it was from her, not just because it had been wrapped in pink paper but also because she was the only one who could get access to his address before he even knew it himself.

Getting back to his room for the day, Spencer stripped off his gear and settled down for the evening. He picked up the package and was comforted to see that he was correct, the package was from Garcia. Too excited to be careful, he tore into the wrapping but was brought up short when he opened the box. She had obviously been doing her homework on how to put together a care package. Everything was neatly organized, fitting tightly together with useful items serving as the cushioning rather than tissue paper or other hard to dispose of fillers. He began pulling item after item out of the box, honestly surprised with how much she had fit into a standard, flat rate postage box. As he spread the items out on his rack (bed) he began to see how everything fit together. The FBI beach towel, the sunscreen, the margarita cookies, and the kind of books he had admitted to loving as mental cotton candy all added up to her trying to get him to smile. As he bit into the luscious lime cookie, he was able to smile for the first time since he left Virginia. 


	30. Chapter 30

Personal Life

Fuck Murphy and his damn law!

That had become Aaron's mantra. With Spencer gone, it seemed as though anything that could go wrong, was going wrong. It made no sense at all to the logical, rational FBI agent how everything seemed to be falling to pieces around him. This had to be some sort of giant cosmic joke, right? After all, he was a grown man who had been married, fathered a child, divorced, been a single dad, and was now married again. He was a lawyer and an FBI agent who captured serial killers and the other dregs of society on a daily basis. So why, why for all that is holy could he not seem to catch a break?

That wasn't exactly true, he did catch a break or more accurately Jack caught a break when he fell off the jungle gym at school and broke his arm while Aaron was in the middle of a serial arsonist case in Wyoming. He had been in the middle of briefing the local law enforcement on the profile when he had gotten that frantic phone call from Jessica. A quick reminder that the power of attorney she had for Jack covered medical decisions and he had a few hours to solve the case so he could get home as soon as possible. Strauss would never agree that a broken arm on a child, especially when said child was with family already, was worthy of pulling Aaron off the case no matter how much he argued.

Then it was the car.

That had started innocently enough, at first it was just a few odd noises when he was taking Jack to school. When the noise stopped just as mysteriously as it had begun, he had pushed any thoughts of it to the back of his mind. Then Murphy reared his ugly head and the car stalled, spewing smoke from the engine compartment. Under certain circumstances, Aaron would have been glad for the relatively quiet destruction, but he had been on the way to drop Jack off at Jessica's. After calling for a tow to the nearest garage, Jessica to get Jack, and a cab to get to the airport, he thought that everything was back under control. Two days later he got a message that he would need extensive repairs on the SUV. Really, the garage wasn't sure if it was going to be worth the money to repair the engine. The icing on this cake was that Spencer had finally sold his beloved Amazon before he deployed. He had plans to use some of the tax-free deployment bonuses to buy a new car. He was just waiting until AFTER he got home to buy the car which left Aaron scrambling to find a rental until he could fix or replace his vehicle.

Now it was the washing machine.

After the hectic week, he let the team go once they had completed the case paperwork. Bringing it home with him, he had allowed himself to relax for the first time in far too long. With Jack at school and Spencer deployed, he had the freedom to catch up on all the items that he had put off, including laundry. He spent a quiet afternoon reviewing case reports and car shopping online while doing laundry. Right before going to pick Jack up from school, he put the final load in to wash.

Jack was the first to notice something was wrong. After coming through the front door, he ran into the laundry room to change into his play clothes while Aaron disarmed the security system. As he was removing his shoes and setting his wallet and keys in their appropriate positions by the door, he heard a faint cry from the back of the house, "Uh, Dad? You need to see this."

Immediately on high alert, Aaron was grateful that the gun safe was on the way to the laundry room. Snagging his service weapon took mere seconds while running to his son. He skidded to a stop on the kitchen floor when he saw Jack staring through the open door into the laundry room. Coming up slowly behind him, Aaron looked into what had formerly been a neat if well used space. Now, it looked like the start of a techno foam party, with the washing machine continuing to spit and spew suds everywhere.

He really didn't know if he should be laughing or crying right now, but all he could think was that things like this NEVER happened when Spencer was home.


	31. Chapter 31

BAU Life

"You absolutely cannot put those in the package!" Garcia yelped.

All eyes turned towards the conference room where Garcia appeared to be in a stand-off with Rossi.

"Why not? It's what I wanted when I was overseas."

Garcia waved the handful of magazines at Rossi, "Spencer is not you! My boy genius doesn't need this kind of...smut! He is over there doing noble work and you are trying to defile him."

Dave was having a hard time keeping a straight face at Garcia's antics. "Defile him? You do realize, my dear Miss Garcia, that he is not the virginal flower you take him to be? He has been sleeping with Aaron for several years now. I highly doubt that a gentleman's magazine is going to shock him. Hell, he might enjoy it."

She narrowed her eyes as she studied his calm demeanor. "Humph. While you might have a point about the magazines, explain the other stuff. He doesn't smoke so why would he need all this stuff?" She used the publications, still in her hands to nudge at the pile of chewing tobacco and cigars.

"You might just be surprised at the depths to our young friend. However, aside from the cigars, those aren't for him so much as for the people he is with. Tobacco products can sometimes become hard to come by which means that he can use them to get other things he does want. Never underestimate the power of the barter system in the military," he replied.

"And the socks? Foot powder? Motrin?"

"First rule of combat is to take care of your feet. You keep them dry, you change your socks, you take care of them because when shit goes down, they are going to be how you get out there. As for the motrin? Well, you told me to send candy."

Garcia threw her hands up. "I give up! Send whatever you want. Here, now you have a box. There's a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies in there too. Don't forget to include the team letters either."

Rossi simply shrugged, packed the box, and marked his name off the care package list.


	32. Chapter 32

Battalion Life

Spencer stood in the doorway of his living quarters and not for the first time wished that he wasn't on this particular 'camping trip' as he and the team had started calling all of his time out in the field. It wasn't the heat that bothered him, the consistently high temperatures had his Nevada native blood singing in joy. Frankly, the dry heat was a nice change from the humid mess that was DC during the summer. It wasn't the cold either, he was without a doubt prepared for the drastic temperature changes this time. It was still a surprise though whenever he would find himself huddling under a blanket when the temperature was hovering at 80 degrees. What bothered him was the dust. It was everywhere and covering everything. No matter what he did, it felt like he was never clean and nothing stayed clean for longer than a few moments. He might not be nearly as germophobic or OCD as many thought he was, but it was miserable to be constantly gritty and dusty. After another few months of this, he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to clean it all off of himself and his gear upon returning home.

With a sigh, he turned around to grab his gear and head towards the small building that was set up for conferences. He and his Seabees were getting briefed on requirements for projects that some of the embedded units wanted completed. It was going to be a long meeting. He was going to have to do a lot of prioritizing that would make several very high ranking people unhappy. No one was really happy being here and being told that their project wasn't the first one to be done? Well, that certainly did nothing to calm anyone down. Tempers were consistently high and everyone was in a perpetual frenzy to get things accomplished. It didn't help that the entire base was in a tizzy this week because of the USO tour that was going to be here for a few days. Even that which was meant to be a distraction was turning into a pain in the ass.

Cover on, sunglasses in place, binder in hand, he grabbed his weapon and started the trek across the compound. Along the way, he noticed that the USO troupe had arrived and were being given a tour of the base. Taking off his sunglasses for a better look, he couldn't help but smile as he recognized a familiar figure. That figure then turned and looked in his direction, a smile breaking out across her face. "Spencer, Spencer Reid?" She said breaking away from the group and running toward him and jumping into his arms.

Caught off guard by the woman leaping into his arms, he dropped everything in his hands and hugged her tightly. "Lila! I didn't know you were going to be here."

"Well, I didn't know you were going to be here, Spencer!" She leaned in and gave him a deep kiss on his lips, his shocked expression giving her tongue access to plunder his mouth. "I am so happy to see you. I've missed you!"

"Lila! Stop!" Spencer's brusque request was tempered with the smile and laugh. "I'm a married man!"

"And sadly not married to me," she pouted. "Well, that doesn't matter right now. Right now you need to join me for this tour. This place is miserable and dusty but having you at my side will brighten it considerably."

Spencer was doing his best to extricate himself from his friend's surprisingly strong grasp. "I'd love to join you but I've got a meeting to go to. I'm working here and you know I take my work seriously."

"You do take your work seriously, far too seriously! Well, if you won't join me for the tour, at least for dinner and then after the show? You were planning on coming to the show, weren't you?"

In reality, he hadn't considered attending. He had enough to do that would keep him busy and pop culture was never something that interested him greatly. However, having Lila there was a game changer. They had fallen into a deep and easy friendship since he had met her. Between their schedules though, it was difficult to see each other in person, in fact he hadn't seen her since she had come to watch him promote what felt like a lifetime ago. Actually getting to see her and spend time with her was already something he knew that he would agree to do, even if it meant braving the crowds during the show. "Knowing that you will be there? I'll be there with bells on. Did you know that the tradition of going someplace with bells on originated..."

"Perfect!" Lila cut him off. "I will see you then. Bring some friends, I can't wait to meet your Army buddies." She finished with a wink and a tap to his chest where US Navy was typed proudly.

"Navy, Lila, Navy. You know very well that I'm in the Navy," he said shaking his head. "I'll bring my Seabees. I think they would be excited to meet you. I assume they would be, after all I feel like I've heard some of them talking about your latest movie."

"Army, Navy, does it matter? Besides, even though I know you haven't told me that often enough or anything really lately! You, my dear, are terrible at keeping in touch these days. Bring your Seabees. It will be wonderful. Now shoo, you don't want to be late for work, lover!" A kiss to his cheek and she was racing off to where the tour group had paused to wait for her.

Spencer could only smile fondly as he picked up everything he had dropped. With everything that had been happening in his life recently, he had forgotten what a dear friend Lila was. Spending so much time away from his family was reminding him how important relationships like that were in life. He would have to make an effort to keep in touch with her better.

He remained lost in his thoughts, mentally planning how to keep up his friendship with Lila, as he made his way to the meeting. All around him, people were staring and letting the gossip fly: That tall, skinny, and slightly odd Navy officer that is with the Seabees? Well, he was JUST seen making out with THE Lila Archer! From absolute obscurity on base that morning, Spencer had instantly become the envy of almost every single male in camp and he didn't even know it.

BT

Spencer was utterly exhausted. His exhaustion had been worth it though, the night before the USO troupe had put on quite a show. He was not very optimistic that the sludge that passed for coffee in the dining hall would do much to wake up him but it couldn't hurt, could it? He grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at one of the tables in the far corner of the room. All alone, he pulled a book out of one of his deep pockets and settled in to start the slow process of waking up.

"What is your secret, man?" a relatively young Hispanic man sat down across from Spencer at the chow hall table.

Putting his book down, he replied, "What do you mean, Alvez?" A quick look at the man's name tape had confirmed the name. If Spencer's memory was accurate, he had been one of the lucky soldiers chosen to participate in the after show meet and greet the night before.

"Lila Archer! You got to bring your entire unit to the meet and greet and then she was practically plastered to your side the entire time. How did you do it? She's only been here for a couple of days but you two were looking pretty darn cozy already!" the officer, Captain Alvez, continued.

"Oh, that. Well, Lila and I have been friends for years. She knew I was deployed but for OPSEC reasons, I didn't tell her where. I didn't know she was doing a USO tour until I ran into her on the compound the other day," Spencer answered with a shrug as he tried to return to the book he had been reading.

Not taking the hint, Alvez continued to press Spencer for answers."You are friends with Lila Archer? How did you meet her?"

By this point, Spencer knew that he wouldn't be having the quiet morning he had wanted to have. "I am a reservist. I work for the FBI. I met her while I was on a case. End of story."

"You work for the FBI? That is awesome! I put my application in with them. I am hoping to go through training when I get back from this deployment. What's it like?"

It took every ounce of self-control that he had for Spencer to not drop his head to the table in frustration. Instead, he took a long sip of his coffee and prayed to whomever was listening that he wouldn't run into this energetic man after he became an agent.


	33. Chapter 33

Personal Life

From the breakroom, Aaron had a clear line of sight to the conference room where Garcia still had "Operation Geek Crate" was going strong. Spencer had been gone for several months now, everyone on the team had sent him a little something. Some of the boxes held useful items like Rossi's socks or JJ's sunscreen. Other boxes were meant to flat out cheer up their deployed teammate, cookies and candy that the team knew he loved. Admittedly, the candy items were harder to send thanks to the fear of melting. Still, did it really matter if the gummy bears came out as individuals or if there was simply a sheet of gummy goodness? Spencer certainly didn't care either way.

Aaron had not been idle when it came to sending reminders of home to Spencer. Heck, he still remembered the somewhat frantic Skype call they had when Spencer told him how he had forgotten to pack his usual letter writing equipment. Aaron had it boxed and in the mail the next day. Shaking his head at the memory, Aaron was amused by how his husband still insisted that written letters were far superior to email or other forms of long distance communication. Despite writing fewer letters since the passing of his mother, Spencer nevertheless continued to write diligently. What Spencer didn't know was that Aaron kept every single handwritten note from him in a box in the closet. Privately, he wholeheartedly agreed that seeing the words of love and affection in Spencer's hand was more meaningful than any digital words.

The more he thought about Spencer and how long he had been gone, the hornier Aaron got. Intellectually he knew that he wouldn't be getting laid for the year or so that Spencer would be gone, but it was another thing to be living in this government induced dry spell. After so long with Spencer, his hands just were not cutting it anymore. What made it worse is that he knew that Spencer was likely suffering just as much as he was.

There had to be something that he could do. The sexual tension during their Skype calls was getting ridiculous. Not to mention, the lack of regular release was wreaking havoc on his ability to not become aroused at the mere thought of his husband. He needed something, anything, to help him through the rest of deployment.

Thinking about this topic had him remembering that he needed to put lube on his shopping list. He was running dangerously low on the good stuff. Hopefully Spencer wasn't having the same problem. After all, it was much easier to run to their preferred toy store to pick up more supplies for him than it was for Spencer. Maybe he should send Spencer some extra, maybe include a little something extra?

An idea was forming in Aaron's mind. Wouldn't that be the care package of all care packages? A reminder of how much Aaron cared about him, especially in a sexual sense? He could easily send some smaller bottles of their favorite lube, maybe some toys that would be unobtrusive but effective? Oh, and if he could get him to use them while on one of their Skype dates? That would be even better.

With that, Aaron knew that he would be stopping at the toy store on his way home. All of the delicious thoughts that had come as he started to form his plan had put him in an uncomfortable position. He needed to sit down to drink his coffee rather than risk the team see him rush back to his office, body flushed and aroused. If he was enjoying the thought of it this much, he just knew that Spencer would enjoy the real thing.

BT

Mail call that included a letter or package from Aaron made every single day in this miserable camp that much brighter. As he took the box in his hands, he knew that there would be a letter, handwritten of course, from Aaron. There would be drawings and a letter from Jack. If he was REALLY lucky there might be some of Garcia's cookies too. She had surprised him by having a brand new recipe for each box.

He took the box back to his room, locked the door, and sat down on his rack to open his package. As he cut through the tape, his excitement was growing; Aaron's letters were always so beautiful and he wanted to savour them. When he pushed the top of the box back to reveal its contents, it was not what he expected.

Yes, sitting bold and white on top was a letter, his name written in the bold stroke of his husband. What he didn't expect was the brightly wrapped packages nestled amongst the expected cookie container and books. It was unusual and Spencer couldn't think of any reason that there would be wrapped presents in his package. His birthday was last month, Christmas wasn't for another 6 weeks, and presents for Thanksgiving made no sense. Perhaps Aaron wanted to tease him and make him hold on to the Christmas presents until the actual holiday. He dismissed that thought as Aaron would never be so mean, he understood that Spencer's curiosity would inevitably have him tearing into the presents long before the Yule hit.

He left those items in the box but dug out the cookie container. The first bite of the pumpkin spice cookies was like a taste of home as he tore open the letter from Aaron. He leaned back against his pillow and began to gorge himself on the chewy cookies and letters from home.

Even though he could read at unbelievable speeds, he slowed down when reading letters. He let his mind focus on each word, lingering on the strokes, reading the emotion of the writer as well as the word choice. When he read like this, it took him a far more normal amount of time to reach the end of the letter. What he read there had him choking on his cookie. Aaron was suggesting what?!

Dropping the letter, he grabbed the box and began pulling out the wrapped packages. Thankful that he had his own room, he shredded the fancy wrapping paper. The first item to fall into his hands was a small bundle of the water based lube, wrapped tightly in a plastic Ziploc bag, that he and Aaron preferred. The next item was another bagged bundle of lube, one warming and one cooling. Starting to put the pieces together as to how Aaron's plan was going to work, he was confused when he opened up a box of cornstarch. That couldn't be right but he set it off to the side with the lubes while he faced down the next 3 items, the largest wrapped items.

The first was easily understood. Spencer was actually somewhat annoyed with himself that he hadn't thought to bring something like the Fleshlight now resting in his hands when he deployed. It felt solid and exciting in his hands. He found himself starting to get aroused at the thought that Aaron could be at home right now with his own device in hand. He stifled a groan at the image and kept unwrapping.

The fifth item was actually a two for one. The first had him wanting to smack his forehead again. How could he have forgotten his prostate stimulator? Though the one in his hands was new, it was identical to the one he and Aaron used at home. The second almost brought tears to Spencer's eyes. It was a Ziploc bag with what looked like a t-shirt. Breaking the seal on a corner, he brought it up to his nose and sniffed. Immediately he was filled with the clean crisp scent of Aaron's body wash, the dark notes of his cologne, and the gentle musk that was Aaron himself. He sealed the bag quickly, not wanting to let any of the aroma evaporate as he unwrapped the last item.

Spencer had always considered himself somewhat well learned on the topic of sex toys but the next item confused him. It looked like half a carton of large candy eggs. It couldn't be though as the chocolate surely would have melted during transit. So what...oh...oh that's what they are! Spencer's initial flush of arousal was back full force as he read the package and saw the patterns on the eggs that promised a wide variety of sensation when used.

He looked at the goodies now surrounding him and realized he was in for a night of fun and (self) pleasure. It would be a great way to relieve the stress of the day. He tossed the box of cookies on his desk, threw the paper and box in the trash after grabbing the care and cleaning instructions for his new items from the bottom. The instructions and most of the items were placed on his desk by the cookies as he shimmied his pants off, leaving him in only his boxers as he grabbed one of the plain lubes and an egg. Yup, tonight was going to be a good night all thanks to his amazing husband.


	34. Chapter 34

Battalion Life

"I wish someone would have reminded me to not re-read certain books before bed. Beware the ides of March, indeed!" Spencer grumbled to himself as he dressed for the day. "I feel like I have that thrice-damned soothsayer whispering in my ear these days. The ides of March is just another day. Like yesterday was and tomorrow will be. I have no reason to fear a day. Today isn't even really March 15th. The whole Gregorian calendar I'm basing this on was invented long after Julius Caesar gave us his calendar. For him, today would be 2456366.500000 JD. If I was deployed on the Enterprise today would be Star Date 66668.3. There is nothing to fear in that number. Nothing to worry about in a day."

Spencer continued to alternately complain to and reassure himself under his breath. He had fallen asleep the night before reading Shakespeare's Julius Caesar and was regretting it this morning. He had slept fitfully, resulting in him being tired and uneasy as he woke. His dreams that night had been vivid and disturbing. Images of himself covered in blood, his BAU team standing around him with sharp knives dripping crimson, and mountains of twisted, burning metal and flames were seared into his mind. Even with all of the internal logical arguments he could make, from a poor night of sleep, an overactive imagination, to something he ate, he couldn't stop a sick feeling from settling in his gut at the thought that today was March 15th. He might not be Caesar but he had a feeling that like good old J.C., he was going to have a bad day today. Just the thought that he had a 'gut feeling' was laughable. He was logic personified for his team, so much so that they had cracked jokes about whether or not he was even human. He was a thinker, a logistician, and not one to give in to the whims of what was more than likely just a gastrointestinal reaction to the chow hall. So, he would stop thinking about this foreboding feeling and focus on the mission at hand.

It was an impressive mission too. He and his Seabees had spent the better part of the last 8.5 months attempting to show their worth to the units assigned to the base here. After their hard work, they had finally convinced an Army detachment that they would be able to be useful in preparation for one of their upcoming missions. A segment of the 75th Ranger Battalion had orders to a certain region about 30 miles west of their current location in Iraq. Between here and there though were a number of bridges built by the locals across valleys, small rivers, and rough terrain. It wasn't known if the bridges could handle the vehicles the 75th would be taking. That is where Spencer and his team came into play. His unit would be going out to assess the bridges and generate plans to either reinforce or replace the necessary bridges so that the other unit could move forward with their mission. This was going to be their first visit out to inspect the bridges and roadways so as far as Spencer was concerned, it was kind of a big deal.

In some ways, he mused as he continued to get dressed, this was the culmination of all the training and preparation he had done. From the tactical leadership courses to the courses in the Navy's way of doing construction and project management, he and his unit had been groomed for this mission and more like it.

As it turns out, it wasn't. That is, it wasn't a long day. In fact, it was frustratingly short. Despite getting up at o'dark thirty for briefings and last minute mission prep, the mission was cancelled for the day and moved to the right a few days. It was laughable in its predictability, there had been and would likely continue to be a lot of 'hurry up and wait'. Still, this was the kind of delay about which he wasn't going to complain. That bad feeling he had? Yeah, that was nothing more than him realizing that the planning and schedule had been going too smoothly for this. Thankfully, little needed to change other than some of the requests and dates on paperwork. It wouldn't take long to get them squared away and then the mission could go forward as intended.

BT

This time it really was going to be a long day. The fact that it was the second attempt at executing the mission meant that it was going to be under a lot more scrutiny. More scrutiny means more briefings, more questions, and more of everything, all of which takes time. Thus, today was going to be a very long day.

Now, after all of the planning and briefing that he had done, Spencer could confidently say that everything was as well planned as it could be. Thankfully, everything indicated that the mission was not anticipated to be particularly long or dangerous. While they were going outside the wire, they would be staying in relatively friendly area just a few miles away. Regardless of how short, close, or friendly the area, all standard combat mission precautions were going to be in place for this: they would be in armored vehicles, weapons in the ready posture, and full tactical gear. It was hot, cramped, and miserable in the convoys like that.

After all of the delays associated with this mission, there was a feeling of excitement about the day that even the misery of the convoy couldn't dispel. This was when the Seabees were going to prove their usefulness. To the Bees, this was the highlight of deployment, getting to go beyond the wire and feel as though they are making a difference in the fight. Underlying the excitement there was some hesitation. There were larger implications to the success of this mission that had them all anxious. If this went well, it would also be conclusive proof that the Seabees were a valuable asset in this joint warfare environment. Not all the work could be done by the US Air Force's Prime BEEF and RED HORSE units.

For Spencer, this was hitting very close to home. After learning that his first Battalion, NMCB 23, would decommission and disband, he was determined to show that the Seabees are relevant in this modern warfare construct. Grand goals for a single detachment and junior officer, but every little bit helped. This mission was his first chance to show what he believed. He was even optimistic that he would be able to see the operation through to its conclusion. It was mid-March and he wasn't leaving until early July. That should give him more than enough time to pull this off successfully.

Looking down at his watch he realized that he only had 10 minutes to grab his gear and get to the sand table for the pre-convoy briefing. Even though they were still several hours out from the actual mission today, the rest of the time before step off would be spent in briefings with the latest intel and mission plans as well as doing gear and vehicle checks. Only when everything was checked out and cleared through all levels of security on the compound would they wait for their window to leave. It was exhausting to think of how much planning went into this brief trip but he knew it was necessary. Some of the dangers they could face on this seemingly benign mission were pretty dramatic: ambush, mortars, IEDs, snipers, the list went on. He wasn't worried though, this had been planned, briefed, updated, and would be several more times before they started out. He was confident in his team and the unit of the 75th that would be going as security for the mission, but now he needed to get moving.

Closing the door quietly behind himself, Spencer stepped out into the dark of morning. The air was cool for this time of year and dry enough that the weather was not going to be a significant factor in any plan changes today. It was, by all accounts, going to be an absolutely beautiful day. As he moved quickly to the briefing area, ready and excited to get started, he could already see the vehicles that were pre-staged the night before along with the vehicle teams doing their first checks of the day. Everything was falling into place, FINALLY.

BT

Despite the early start to the briefings and last-minute checks and plans, everything had gone smoothly and they had stepped off on time. The trip to the first bridge had been just as hot, dirty, and miserable as everyone anticipated. The time spent assessing the bridge was more than adequate and they had been able to start doing some initial brainstorming for its reinforcement. It was time to head back to the compound and everyone was mounting up, albeit reluctantly. After spending the day in the beautiful weather, complete with a comfortable breeze, no one was relishing the idea of getting into the tight armored vehicles for the ride 'home.' As part of the leadership, Spencer was rounding up his Bees and performing the necessary checks and headcounts. As radio chatter topics changed from the assessment to the return convoy, everyone started to relax. The mission was accomplished and it was a quick trip back.

Finally, everyone was ready and loaded up. As the convoy pulled away from the bridge, Spencer took a final look at it and smiled. It felt good to be productive, but he was exhausted and happy to be done for the day. As soon as the assessment wrapped up, the Convoy Commander took charge and Spencer was now enjoying being a passenger with no immediate responsibilities. Sitting in the cramped vehicle, he was glad he had planned ahead and kept his notebook handy. He was excited to get started putting his thoughts to paper. While his eidetic memory was handy for him, it didn't help anyone else if he had no notes to back up the observations! Even rough notes and impressions done during the brief ride back was better than waiting and starting from scratch on the compound. Besides, if it saved him a few minutes when he got back, all the better. He had left before he could finish his daily email to Aaron and Jack. He was anxious to wrap everything up quickly so he could finish that and maybe even find a few minutes to video chat if the timing worked out. Now that was a reason to hurry, he thought!

He was so absorbed in his notes that he didn't notice anything, not that there was anything to notice. By the time anyone noticed something, it was too late. For Spencer, the awareness came with a drop in his stomach as time seemed to slow down. He looked up from his notes and would have sworn under oath that everything had stopped moving. After what felt like an eternity stuck in a single moment, it was hard to know if the sound or the shrapnel hit him first. From where he sat, it was as though everything was in motion; anything that wasn't strapped down or attached seemed to float away and everything else was exploding into millions of pieces. The silence of the previous moment was destroyed at the screaming of metal tearing, of fire bursting to life, as the explosion itself ripped through him, cutting him into a million pieces before forcing him back together. He felt more than heard anything at first.

Survivors always say that it happened so fast and once it began, it did. One moment everything was fine and the next it was utter chaos. The moment between fine and chaos felt like an eternity to Spencer. The chaos didn't last or if it did, Spencer didn't notice. His world dissolved into nothing but pain before it went black and he knew no more.


	35. Chapter 35

Personal Life

The house was empty and quiet when he unlocked the front door and disabled the alarm. The silence was nothing that Aaron hadn't expected, Jack was over at Jessica's and Spencer was still deployed. He was rather looking forward to the quiet after the past few days. The case had been hard, abductions always were. The team had been working around the clock and now all he wanted was to rest. He was desperate for a shower, a scotch, and time alone. He dropped his bag and briefcase by the door, toed off his shoes, and was already loosening his tie by the time he had reached the stairs. He made his way upstairs, as quickly as his tired and aching body could move. He went directly to the master bath and turned the shower on to start warming up while he continued to strip. By the time he had removed his suit and gotten a pair of comfortable sweats from the drawer, the bathroom was starting to fill with steam. He gratefully stepped into the pounding hot water and let himself relax.

He took a long, leisurely shower, relishing the peace and quiet along with the restorative effects of the hot water. By the time the water was starting to cool down he felt almost normal. He was also feeling rather peckish and decided that cooking would take too much effort. Delivery pizza would pair perfectly with the scotch that was waiting for him downstairs. He called the local pizza place while he was getting dressed. The restaurant was very close and he knew it wouldn't take long for delivery. He made his way downstairs relatively quickly to get everything else arranged before the pizza arrived. He grabbed napkins and a bottle of water from the kitchen and put them on the coffee table in the living room before he poured himself a very generous drink. Sipping it, he perused the DVD collection and was in the process of putting one into the player when the doorbell rang. Aaron abandoned the DVD player and set his drink on the table before grabbing his wallet from the bowl by the door. He opened the door, cash in hand, to be greeted by the last thing he expected to see.

Instead of the lanky teenage boy from a few blocks over with pizza in hand, there were two military officers and a woman in a suit standing on his porch. All three of them had serious expressions on their faces, the woman appeared to have been crying. In an instant, Aaron knew what had happened. He remembered that weekend so long ago, when he had joined Spencer for training on what to expect while deployed. The topic had been glossed over during the day but he could remember later that night Spencer telling him about how the next of kin were notified of casualties, of deaths. The Navy would send a team to the next of kin to make the notification. The team would be an officer, a chaplain, and if available, a case manager. Even with his limited knowledge of uniforms and insignia, these people could be nothing other than a casualty notification team. There was no other reason for any military members to be on the Hotchner-Reid doorstep at 7 PM on a Thursday night.

"No. You aren't, you can't be, no... Not Spencer, please, God, not Spencer," Aaron cried out, leaning heavily on the door. In that moment he was not the self-assured and confident FBI Supervisory Special Agent, he was the loving spouse of a deployed sailor who was having his worst nightmare come to life.

"Sir, I am LT Westbrook, this is Chaplain Moore, and Case Manager Amy Black. I am with the National Capital Region Casualty Assistance Office. Are you Aaron Hotchner? Husband to one Lieutenant Spencer Reid?" The younger man spoke first in a gentle tone, interrupting Aaron's pleading. When Aaron managed a short nod in response to the questions, he continued. "May we please come in? We need to speak with you regarding LT Reid."

Aaron took a step back, to let them into the house, mechanically leading them into the living room and sitting down heavily on the sofa. He was too scared and stunned to remember the manners that had been all but beaten into him as a child. Without thinking, he grabbed the glass of scotch from the table and took a large swallow, gasping as it burned its way down his throat. No one said anything as he did that. The burn of the alcohol seemed to wake Aaron from the shock and he looked at the three individuals who had closed the door behind them and followed him into the room. The chaplain had taken a seat on the couch next to him and the woman sat on the edge of a chair. The only one still standing was the young officer. When he saw that Aaron was focusing again, he took a step towards him and knelt down on one knee saying, "On behalf of the Secretary of the Navy, I regret to inform you that your husband was injured in the line of duty. He sustained serious injuries when his convoy encountered an IED during a routine mission in Iraq. Since the encounter he has been transported to Landstuhl Regional Medical Clinic in anticipation of his return to the states."

Only part of what the lieutenant said registered in Aaron's mind, "Injured? He, he's not dead? He's injured?" Hope was creeping into his voice as he looked between the three individuals. "He's not dead?"

The chaplain smiled at Aaron as he answered, "The last notification we had from Germany was that he was very seriously injured but in stable condition following surgery. Ms Black will be working with you with regards to benefits and what happens next for both of you."

"Was there anyone else that we should notify of LT Reid's injuries? Is there someone we can call to be with you? Is there anyone you would like to inform? " LT Westbrook questioned gently.

"Just, just Jessica. She is my sister in law and has our son right now. She will need to keep him until I get things organized. I'll need to call the Bureau. They need to know," Hotch answered numbly. His body was practically shaking with relief but he was still focused on the fact that Spencer was hurt. "What happened? Will he be ok? What kind of injuries?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hotchner, we don't have that information at this time. Am I correct in assuming that Jessica is LT Reid's sister? We can send a notification team to her in that event," the case manager spoke for the first time.

He shook his head quickly, "No, no, she is my sister in law from a previous marriage. My ex-wife died several years ago but Jessica has stayed close to us. We can call. She can keep Jack with her, she is used to watching him on short notice. I can always call her again when I have more information."

She nodded, "That is fine. We will handle this how you want to do so. Unfortunately, we won't be able to get you to Germany to see LT Reid. You are free to travel there yourself but you need to be aware that you would not have the same base access and privileges that you have here."

"I have no privileges, our marriage isn't recognized by the Navy. Just, please, I need to see Spencer," he pleaded, his usually sharp eyes glittering with unshed tears. The pain and difficulty of his words punctuated by his posture as the proud man's shoulders curled in self-protectively.

This was far from the first call that Amy Black had done, but it was the first for a married gay couple. It broke her heart that all of the resources and help that she had at her disposal for heterosexual couples were inaccessible for this poor man. There was no difference as far as she was concerned, this man's spouse was alone and injured in Germany and he deserved the right to go to him just as much as any other spouse. It wasn't up to her though. She did have friends over there though and perhaps they could set up a video conference at a minimum. With an internal sigh and a promise to herself to do as much as she could she replied, "I can make no promises, but I will see what I can do to get you to at least talk with him as soon as possible."

The smile and relief that came to Aaron's face was a sight she would never forget.


	36. Chapter 36

Battalion Life

Spencer was surprised that he didn't wake to a fog of drugs or pain. While grateful to not feel either, his mind was still hazy with exhaustion, confusion, and panic. Something was wrong, he wasn't where he should be. Hell, he wasn't sure where he was or how he got there.

As he blinked his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness, Spencer ran through a mental list of what he knew at the moment, an exercise that had helped to calm him down on more than one occasion. From the antiseptic smell and sterile white, well, sterile white everything he could reasonably assume that he was in a hospital of some kind. That was half of an answer, what hospital was still a mystery and there was nothing within his limited view to give an answer. Still, he took that as a good sign and the panic ebbed incrementally.

From previous experience, he knew that the exhaustion and lack of pain likely meant that he was coming out of general anesthesia, possibly with some sort of epidural block depending on the type of surgery. Without any pain, it was hard to tell where or what kind of surgery it had been. It also didn't explain why he had needed surgery in the first place. He wanted to focus on those questions, figure out the answers, but his body wasn't cooperating. The post-surgery haze coupled with the panic he was feeling had muddled his thought process. Spencer's thoughts were so chaotic that he didn't even notice his eyelids becoming heavier, darkness slowly dropping down on him. Mere moments after his eyes opened, sleep had claimed him once again.

BT

The next time Spencer opened his eyes, it wasn't to the harsh sterility and panic from before. He woke to the muted lights of a patient room, complete with a soft pillow beneath his head and far fewer machines surrounding his bed. It was far more comfortable than the previous location, despite the aching pain he felt highlighting every inch of his body. The pain was clear indication that whatever epidural block he had was almost completely worn off.

Curiosity winning over everything, even the threat of additional pain, he decided that sitting up would be a nice change, perhaps even answering the questions still swirling in his head. He groped at the remote until he could lift it high enough to see it. The stars bursting behind his eyes as he slowly moved had him missing the numbness that he felt when he first came out of the anesthesia. For the most part, the pain was dull, a background to the sharp stabs of feeling that sparked across him from the slight adjustments he was attempting.

The pain was flushing the haze from his mind, leaving it open to the questions that had been floating around his mind. Gently fingering the bed controls, he pressed the button to raise the bed to a position that was incrementally closer to sitting. As the bed was slowly moving, he could feel pulling and stretching in his back and legs as they were angled into a position against their will. Unable to handle the sensation and fearing that he might pull stitches, Spencer stopped the bed and tried to breathe through the pain erupting in his lower body. When he did so, he looked down to see what was causing the pain, expecting to see bandages covering a surgical site at a minimum. What he saw was definite evidence of surgery, just not the kind he expected.

Without prompting his mind supplied the exact name of the surgery he must have endured: Sinister Transfemoral Amputation. There was no mistaking that surgery for any other, his left leg was gone from just above the knee down.

"Huh, I guess I don't need to worry about arthritis in my knee like the doctor predicted," he thought to himself. He leaned back against the pillow again thinking about the dire warnings his doctor in DC had given him in the months and years since he had been shot in the knee. As he stared at his legs, contemplating the relief he felt about not having to deal with arthritis, the absurdity of his thoughts coupled with the irrefutable evidence before him, hit with an almost physical blow. Reality finally started to sink in. "My leg is gone," he whispered as his heart started to beat a bit faster. "My leg is gone. It's gone, gone...no...this can't be happening. This is some sort of fucked up nightmare," his whispered words were starting to become more frantic and less coherent as the panic settled. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." he was chanting softly as he pushed back against his pillow, muscles tightening in a 'fight or flight' response, but with no way to flee his own body. His eyes were screwed shut and his hands were gripping and releasing the sheet and blanket, trying futilely to gain traction against an intangible adversary. He could feel his heart racing, his breathing was starting to become uneven and shallow, sounding jagged and harsh to his own ears, being all but drowned out by the pounding blood that was racing through his body. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." It had stopped being a chant and had become a plea, a question whose answer he already knew.

The panic was increasing and he was starting to get light-headed, unable to stop himself, his breathing was becoming more and more uneven, curses and pleas dripping from his lips in whispered agony, there were spots dancing behind his eyelids as he was involuntarily starving himself of oxygen. He was so lost in the panic that he didn't hear or see the nurses that had entered the room. The first immediately started pushing a sedative into his IV line while the second went to the other side of the bed to lower his head slightly and whisper soothing words. She brushed his hair from his forehead and kept telling him to relax, to breathe. As the sedative reached his bloodstream, he started to calm. His heart was still pounding but it was slowing down. His breathing was still harsh but was evening out. The blood that was pounding in his ears was becoming quiet and he could hear his own weak voice whispering, begging, "Please, please, please, no. No, no, no, fuck, no. Please..." His muscles, taut and corded in the panic attack, were relaxing incrementally as the medicine took control. His voice trailed off, lost to the drugs coursing through his system.

"Oh dear, we didn't think you would wake up for another hour at least," the soft, soothing voice said. The hand kept stroking his forehead, grounding him gently from floating away completely with the medicine. "You weren't supposed to be alone when you woke up. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Those words were repeated over and over again as Spencer gave in and fell asleep, tears still streaming down his face and falling silently on the pillow below.


	37. Chapter 37

Battalion life

Spencer sat on the edge of the bed and glared at the woman standing in front of him. The woman stood there, arms crossed across her chest and smirked at him. The harder he glared, the more she smirked. "I don't feel good," he finally broke the stalemate. When he saw that his admission wasn't having any discernible effect on her he continued, "You do know that I've used crutches before."

"Oh, I'm sure you have, but I'm not asking you to use crutches, am I?" she asked getting a small shake of his head as answer. "I'm asking you to use this nice walker here. Have you used one of them? You are trying to push ahead to crutches when you still have stitches and injuries that you do not want to aggravate. Have you used gotten out of bed under your own power since having approximately 1/6th of your weight completely removed and nothing redistributed?" another small shake of the head. "Then don't proceed to tell me that you do not need help with this. You are not ready for crutches yet. Now, put your arms here...and here...good. Now slowly lean forward and let gravity help you to stand. Take it slow...slow! Lieutenant Reid, I swear... Lean into the walker. That's it. Good, good. Take it nice and slow. Don't forget to breathe."

Spencer took his eyes away from the floor where he had been focusing in an attempt to help his balance and prevent himself from losing his stomach's contents. It was horrible. Just sitting had been making him feel nauseated and dizzy today. Standing was worse. The blood rushing to what was remaining of his left leg was turning a nagging ache into a throbbing, pulsing, pounding, pain that felt like the incision was being sliced open with each beat of his heart. He felt weak and shaky. The chipper attitude of the woman in front of him was not helping the way he was feeling. Didn't she understand that he had just had his leg blown off? He was injured, dammit! Everything hurt. His head was starting to pound in sync with his leg and the stitches on some of his larger cuts were pulling and stretching painfully. He just wanted to lay down and stop the world from spinning. Why doesn't she just go back to whatever circle of hell from which she escaped and leave him alone? He was a genius, even if he didn't particularly like the term, he could figure out how to do this without her perky help and he would do it later. He would figure it out when he didn't feel miserable.

As if reading his mind, her smile got bigger and her demeanor perkier. "You are doing so well, can you make your way over to the chair right there and sit down, Lieutenant?"

Biting back the words he wanted to use. He channeled his energy into holding himself upright against the walker. His leg felt so weak and shaky that he leaned more heavily on the supports, his wrists starting to ache from the unfamiliar pressure. Suddenly, he right leg gave out and he felt himself crumpling in on himself, with no way to stop since his hands were still tightly gripping the walker. He was saved from the fall by two strong, feminine hands. "Whoa there! Are you ok? Are you feeling dizzy? Look at me," she pushed him back towards the bed and once propped against it, brought her hand to his chin and forced him to look into her eyes. He tried to meet her gaze but the pain in his left leg, the vertigo, and the writhing mess of emotions he was feeling had him wrenching his head from her hands to lean away from her and throw up the contents of his stomach.

"Oh my goodness, LT! Sit back," she said.

He had closed his eyes while vomiting and didn't notice her hitting the nurse call button next to the bed nor did he see the man who had rushed into the room at the woman's exclamation. In his haze, he vaguely registered a cool damp cloth wiping his forehead then resting on the back of his neck. He could feel his fingers being pried loose from where they were still gripping the metal frame of the walker and small cup of cold water pressed into them. Taking a grateful sip, he leaned into the body next to him. It was strong and warm. He took a deep breath, the smell was comforting and relaxing. It was an appreciated change from the antiseptic smell of the hospital and the harsh scent of the vomit.

The warm body now holding him up was also welcome. He knew intellectually that right now he was touch-starved and likely had been for a while. He had grown accustomed to touching since starting his relationship with Aaron. Being forced away from his husband and step-son, alone in a strange country for months meant that he had not really been touched in any way other than the necessary handshakes, equipment adjustment, and now medical attention. The soothing comfort of the person cradling his seated form was calming him greatly. It was also breaking his heart. At this point, he wanted nothing more than to be held by his husband. He wanted to curl into his arms and sleep, only waking up when all this was nothing but a nightmare.. As tears started to slide from his closed eyes, he whispered the name, "Aaron."

Spencer leaned into the warmth as he felt a hand slowly stroking his hair. The tears continued, streaming down his face to fall onto the fabric of the person holding him. The two of them remained in that position, one crying silently and the other fighting his own tears. Eventually, the tears began to slow, Spencer's body spent from the emotional turmoil of the past few days. The gentle hand that still stroked his hair was lulling him to sleep. As Spencer drifted off to sleep, the hand never paused. The owner of the hand spoke up once he was sure that Spencer was asleep. "Is this normal?"

The woman, Spencer's therapist, sat back in a chair on the other side of the room. After cleaning up the mess from Spencer's earlier activities she had made herself comfortable while Spencer cried himself to sleep. She sighed, "It isn't abnormal. I don't see it often because usually the patients are drugged to the gills on painkillers at this point. The medication generally masks the pain and side effects enough for the patient to be somewhat ambulatory at this point. We encourage the movement, when there aren't extenuating factors such as additional broken bones or internal damage, as it will speed up the healing process."

"But Spencer?"

"I can't talk to you about a patient," the woman hedges, blatantly looking the man up and down. She took in his professional appearance, from the well-shined shoes and sharply pressed suit to the harsh angles of his face. Her gaze lingered at his face were it not for the eyes, it would be impossible to read. His eyes though spoke of love and pain at the moment.

"He's my husband," came the reply. "I'm Aaron Hotchner."

Understanding seemed to dawn on the woman who cleared her throat while attempting to respond. "Oh, well. Um, nice to meet you. Ah, ahem, as you know then he was brought back here because he was deemed stable enough for the travel. However, being stable is only the first step, there will be a significant amount of ongoing treatment in the beginning." She hesitated again before continuing, "I'm sure you realize that this kind of injury will have a lasting effect on his life. It isn't going to be easy."

Turning his well practiced Unit Chief glare on her, he responded coldly, "I assure you that he will have support in anything and everything that is to come. No one is giving up or walking away."

"Whoa, I wasn't trying to imply anything! I just wanted to make sure that you knew that this wasn't going to be easy. He has a long road ahead."

As the two continued to discuss Spencer, his sleep became more restless. Aaron's attention shifted from the gentle but mindless threading of fingers through hair to more and more focused touches. Soon, the woman left the room allowing the man a few minutes of privacy with his husband. She didn't realize that it was the first time that they were together since Spencer had left.

"Shhh, Love. I've got you. Shhh," Aaron smiled down at the man in his arms who was slowly waking. He was pale and shaking, small cuts and bruises littering his body as far as Aaron could see around the hospital scrubs in which he was dressed. His normally soft and fluffy hair was matted and sweaty, his skin glistening with fever and exertion. His eyes were rimmed in red, sunk deep into his face with dark shadows underneath and they glistened with unshed tears as they opened. When he realized who was holding him, a wild look came to his face, as though he wasn't sure if he wanted to bolt as far away from Aaron as possible or close the already short distance between their bodies until there was nothing between them. Aaron's heart ached at the fear and longing that he could see in Spencer's eyes, at the self loathing that was etched in every plane of his body. Not able to hold himself back, he leaned in and captured the lips of the most beautiful man he had ever seen, his husband.

The kiss was short and chaste, a simple meeting of closed lips to closed lips. In that kiss though was all of the love that Aaron could muster to pass to Spencer. It was his way to remind him that he was loved, cherished, and would be through sickness and health. Pulling back, Aaron continued to stroke Spencer's hair with one hand and cradle him with the other.

For Spencer, the kiss broke the shock of waking in his husband's arms. Suddenly, the enormity of the situation folded in on him and he tried to push his husband away. "Aaron, no, you, no, you can't see me like this. Please, you..you can't. I can't ask this of you...I'm...I'm so sorry, please just go," he pleaded

"Spencer, shhh, Love. I will always love you. You don't need to hide anything from me. I love you no matter what. Now rest, please," Aaron said softly, pulling Spencer closer as again his tears began to fall.


	38. Chapter 38

BAU Life

David Rossi had a love-hate relationship with book tours and events. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he loved getting his ego stroked by the adoring fans. However, he also found himself somewhat disturbed by some of the fans who were a little too excited by serial killers and the like. It was also more travel, even on his time off that would otherwise be spent in the comforts of his own home. There were times when he was just fed up with travel and that was usually when his publicist sent him to the far corners of the country to promote himself.

This was one of those times. For almost a year now the team had been without Reid. While the Bureau had taken that opportunity to rotate agents in and out for training purposes, it meant that he was working with what amounted to rookie profilers on a regular basis. After working with the sharp team of professionals for so long, the rookies were making all the travel even more miserable. Beyond that, Hotch had been rather cagey for the past few weeks, taking more time off than usual without explanation, leaving the office on time, and working from Quantico rather than traveling with the team to some of the more distant and potentially longer cases. Dave didn't mind stepping up when Hotch stayed back, but it was yet another reason that he had been looking forward to several weeks of annual leave in the privacy and comfort of his home. Well, Shelby, his publicist, had other ideas and that is why he was currently following the perky nurses' aide around Walter Reed National Military Medical Center, attempting to pay attention but really just trying to figure out how to cut this visit as short as possible. He wasn't slated to actually do a reading or signing for another week but Shelby thought that it would be good to give him a tour now and get him to do some meet and greets to drum up participation. She was afraid that with all of the other famous people that would be there for the event that an author and his book about serial killers might not have the same pull as the actors, actresses, and other performers on the guest list.

Sighing, he knew that he would just have to accept his fate here as it was hard to be upset at this particular location. He was a Marine, one never actually stopped being a Marine after all, and these were his brothers and sisters in arms. He knew he had been lucky to have escaped as unscathed as he had from his military service. These were the poor souls that hadn't been as lucky as he. If he was honest, this particular location was one that he didn't mind too much for his tour. He was glad to be able to donate proceeds to the various organizations that assisted these wounded individuals and their families during difficult times. He was proud to be able to help in that small way. It was also close to home which meant that he did get to enjoy those comforts for at least a portion of the tour schedule. However, did the aide have to be so damn perky? He shook his head if he was following her itinerary correctly this rehab room should be just about the last part of the tour.

The pair made their way into a large, airy room that was well lit but surprisingly empty. A few groups of people worked in various parts of the room. They were all engaged in different activities. From a small group using weight machines to another pair tossing a ball back and forth.

Rossi dutifully followed the aide around the room until he heard several voices rising above the relative quiet of the space. Intrigued, Rossi veered towards the source of the voices. As he approached, the conversation became more intelligible.

"I will kill you. I know serial killers. They will never find your body and never suspect me."

"Promises, promises. Besides, with a declaration like that wouldn't you be the first suspect?"

"Doesn't matter, no one will ever find the body."

"Well, if you are going to kill me you will need to get your ass over here to do it. Come get me."

The first voice was coming from a tall figure currently gripping a set of parallel bars between which he was attempting to walk towards the source of the second voice. The second person was seated on a small rolling stool, also between the bars but a good 5 feet or so beyond the man walking. The two were so engrossed in their session that neither one noticed the author and aide approaching them.

From the conversation about serial killers, Rossi thought that at least one of them might be a fan. Satisfying his curiosity and perhaps meeting a fan in a single move? Perfect, he thought. It was until the young man threw his head back causing his hair to shift away from where the short locks had fallen to block his face from view.

"Reid?" The name came out in a single shout of surprise.

Startled by the voice calling his name, Spencer lost his balance and landed in a heap on the floor, cursing fluently in several languages, at least two of them dead. Rossi started towards Spencer before the aide stopped him with a hand on his arm. The man working with Spencer jumped from his stool and rushed to assist the fallen Spencer.

"Rossi? What the fuck are you doing here?" Spencer said, glaring over the head of the man intent on checking him over for damage.

Just staring at his young teammate sitting on the floor of a rehab center had questions flying through his head. Taking the interrogation approach of getting the unsub to do the talking he went with a raised eyebrow and "I could be asking you the same thing."

Looking from Rossi and the aide next to him, to the therapist whose position was currently blocking Rossi's view of his position on the floor, Spencer knew that it was a matter of moments before Rossi knew about everything. With an exhale that was part resignation and part annoyance, "I'm currently here for therapy with my prosthetist, Joe. Hey, Joe, meet David Rossi. I work with him. Rossi, meet Joe."

The man introduced as Joe sat up from where he had been hunched over Spencer to turn towards Rossi. "Hi, nice to meet you," before turning his attention back to Spencer. "I think you twisted a pin. Let's get this off you so I can fix it. Our session was almost up anyway. Come on, up you go and I'll grab your chair."

With surprising ease, Spencer worked with Joe to come to a standing position again. Once both men were upright, Joe stepped away giving Rossi a full view of Spencer. Spencer who was standing there, supporting himself on the parallel bars and his right leg. His left leg, Rossi realized, was the reason that there was a prosthetist here. Spencer stood, leaning towards the right to prevent any weight being placed on the mechanical contraption that was taking the place of his leg. Rossi's eyebrows rose even higher upon seeing the young genius like this.

Spencer had been watching Rossi for a reaction as Joe left to get the wheelchair. He knew that Rossi wouldn't say anything right away, raise his eyebrows in silent question? Absolutely. Ask awkward questions in the open like this? Not his style. When the eyebrows both raised in surprise, Spencer couldn't help but smirk at nailing the reaction. Still, any excitement he could have had over that was quickly squashed as he was feeling rather tired. His muscles were starting to tremble from exertion and it was with great relief that Joe returned quickly with his wheelchair and helped to remove the prosthesis.

Joe immediately sat back down to begin fiddling with the knee joint of the prosthesis while Spencer worked on removing the fabric liners that he was still wearing before reaching behind to get a small pack that was hanging off the wheelchair. Pushing the removed items into the bag he pulled out a bottle and something that looked like a sock. As he began to rub what must have been lotion from the bottle into his left leg, he finally looked up at Rossi. "Now that you know what I'm doing here, it's your turn to answer. I did ask first, after all."

"Book tour," was the succinct response. "Obviously we need to have a chat, Reid. When you are finished, can we go get a cup of coffee?"

"I'm done for now but I need a shower. If you don't mind waiting for me we can get that cup of coffee. Joe, can I get a hand?" Spencer asked after a quick look to the therapist.

"Sure," he said moving to help put the compression sleeve on Spencer's leg. "Book tour, huh? Does that mean you are the David Rossi who writes about catching serial killers? I love your books! How do you guys know each other?"

"We work together," Rossi said before Spencer could speak up. "When Reid here isn't off with the Navy that is."

His eyes darted between Rossi and Spencer, the memory of Spencer's typical threats during therapy making sense as realization dawned. Joe asked timidly, "You work together? Catching serial killers? That means that...you really could? Oh Fuck…"

Joe's sudden loss for words had Spencer and Rossi laughing uncontrollably.

BT

"Thanks for waiting," Spencer said as he made his way towards the couch where Rossi was sitting and thumbing idly through a magazine. "Do you mind driving? I don't have any means of transportation here other than this chair."

"My curiosity was more than enough to tide me over while you got cleaned up. Where are we  
headed?"

"There is a small coffee shop about a mile or so from here. It is pretty quiet, great coffee, and rather, well, handicap accessible," Spencer responded with a sigh.

"You'll need to provide directions," Rossi said as he lead the way towards his car.

Spencer didn't acknowledge that but followed Rossi to the car. He was grateful when Rossi held the door for him and waited while he got situated in the passenger seat, chair stowed somewhat awkwardly. As they drove, the pair were quiet but for the directions that Spencer provided. When they finally pulled into a parking spot just in front of the door to the coffee shop, Spencer looked over at Rossi and said, embarrassment filling his voice, "Could you give me a hand? This car is a bit lower than what I'm used to."

"Sure. Once we are inside why don't you grab a table and I'll get our drinks. What kind of over sugared monstrosity do you want?" Rossi asked as he helped Spencer to a standing position and removed the chair from the car for him.

Spencer started towards the door, "Extra large cappuccino with 2 sugars."

"That's it? That doesn't sound like nearly enough sugar."

Spencer smirked, "Well, it was hard to get my preferred quantity of sugar over in the sandbox and so I had to get used to drinking coffee with a lot less."

"You poor man," Rossi mocked as he opened the door to the coffee shop.

Thankfully it was practically empty and so Spencer would have his choice of table. Rossi tried to keep an eye on Spencer as he weaved between the tables towards the back of the shop. Once satisfied that Spencer was settling at a table and had not noticed his concern, Rossi turned his attention back to ordering their drinks from the barista. It took just a few minutes for their drinks to be made and almost before Spencer was settled, Rossi was placing the large mug in front of him and settling down across the table.

Neither man spoke for several minutes, both enjoying the peaceful moment of companionship. Both men were well aware that the moment wasn't going to last. Spencer was on edge and already feeling slightly defensive about the situation. Dave was more concerned for the welfare of the young man with whom he worked. Finally, his curiosity couldn't handle it any longer, "Well?"

Setting his coffee down with a sigh Spencer looked directly at Dave. "Well what? That wasn't exactly a question, Rossi."

"I think you are smart enough to know some of the questions I have, Reid."

Nodding at the statement, Spencer started, "True. However, I want you to know that there are parts of this discussion and some answers to your questions that I cannot and will not speak to right now. Ah, before you try and stop me, remember that there are certain things that I was doing that you are not cleared to know about. Others are simply too private. If I tell you I can't answer something, don't push. Can you handle that?"

Dave nodded slowly in agreement. Upon seeing the affirmative response, Spencer began his tale.

"There really isn't as much to the story as I am making it out to be. Thanks to Aaron, you already know how most of my time went over there. Thank you, by the way, for your contributions to the care packages. It was easy to see who had supplied each item," he smiled slightly as he remembered the cheerful packages that he received on a regular basis while deployed. "You, more than anyone else on the team should understand what it was like over there. It sounds rather cliched, but I learned a lot about myself and humanity over there. Oddly, despite what eventually happened, I was never afraid for myself."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His left hand moving down to massage his leg, fingers tapping out a meaningless rhythm against the limb. "That isn't what you are asking though is it? Again, there isn't much of a story. We were out on a mission, heading back when the vehicle I was in hit an IED in the roadway. I don't remember much as I was knocked unconscious by the blast. The next thing I know I was in a hospital in Germany. After a few days there I came back to the states and have been at Walter Reed for the past month. I should be released to go home to Aaron and Jack in less than a week."

"I am sure that there is more to the story than that. You weren't out there alone. Have you spoken to anyone from your unit yet? Why didn't any of this make the news? Usually, American casualties are front page news," Dave started.

"Next subject," Spencer interrupted firmly.

Dave saw that he had touched what was likely a very raw nerve for Spencer. He rightly and quickly changed the subject, "Aaron? He hasn't said anything. Surely he knows about what happened."

Spencer's face softened at the mention of Aaron. He smiled gently as he answered, "He does. As my spouse he was informed that I had been injured as quickly as the military could get word to him. If I remember what he said correctly, I had already reached the hospital but was still in surgery when he was notified."

Dave's eyebrows rose dramatically at the answer. "Spouse?"

Smirking into his cup of coffee that was almost entirely drained, Spencer looked up innocently as his friend and coworker. "What? It is legal in DC. You even encouraged it, remember?"

"I am well aware of what we discussed. I just didn't think the two of you had gone through with it. Why not tell the team about your marriage? You told them about your relationship before you left. Why haven't you told the team you are back?"

"We got married last May. We were going to tell the team about our marriage but then JJ and Will had their wedding and Emily left. By then, I was leaving for deployment. We never had a chance to tell the team. Besides, same-sex marriage still isn't recognized in most states, including Virginia. We went over to DC for the actual marriage but until something changes on a national level, there are few benefits outside of the personal for us living here. As for telling the team I'm back, I….I'm not ready for that."

Dave didn't look convinced but let Spencer continue.

"I will tell the team eventually, I have to if I'm coming back to the BAU. I just don't think I'm ready yet to deal with everyone. Can you imagine their reactions? I mean, Derek still views me as the little brother who needs to be protected. Garcia is going to go full mother hen, and JJ. Honestly, I'm not even sure how she is going to react. I just know that I'm not ready. I'm actually surprised no one has guessed that I'm back. Aaron has been with me as much as possible. He wasn't able to come to Germany while I was there but every moment that he could be away from the unit he has been with me. Jack has been spending most of his time with Jessica. We aren't sure how to tell him. I have been talking to him over the internet though. I just don't know how to explain any of this," he waved his hand towards his lap "to him or the team. "

"I have found that small words and short sentences work best when explaining anything to the team, " Dave smirked. "I'm glad to hear that Aaron's been so supportive. Here I was thinking Aaron was having an affair. He has been leaving work on time or early, staying behind to work from the office rather than the field, sneaking phone calls, and taking long lunches. All that added up to affair in my mind, not you being home early. I was getting worried that I was going to have to break the news to you when you got back from deployment."

Rossi's face grew serious, "Now about Jack, he is what, almost 8 years old now?" at Spencer's nod, he continued. "And just as smart as his father. I suggest that you go with the truth. Let him ask questions and answer with as much as you are comfortable. As for the team, I would hope that by this point in time you know that we are here to support you and welcome you back to the team as soon as you are ready."

"Perhaps," Spencer replied without committing one way or another as they lapsed back into silence. After a few minutes, Spencer spoke up again. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I'm exhausted and would really like to get back to my room so I can get some rest."

Looking more closely at Spencer, Dave could see the tension in his face and the slight tremor in his hands as they place the now empty mug on the table. Banking the lingering curiosity, Dave knew that he had hit his limit for the day and was definitely in need of some rest. "Sure, Kid. Let's hit the road. I'll take care of the cups. Are you ok to make it back to the car?"

Spencer paused, wanting to say yes but unsure. "I, I don't know. Would you come back after taking care of the mugs? I'm not sure I can make it." His face flushed and he looked down at his lap, too embarrassed to make eye contact with Dave.

"In that case, I will be right back," he said clearing the table efficiently.

Dishes deposited he gently guided Spencer to his car and made sure that he was settled before closing the door and getting in behind the wheel. Spencer was already leaning back in the seat, his eyes closed and his entire body trembling slightly. "You ok, Kid?"

Spencer had known that eventually he would be telling the team, but he had not anticipated it happening so soon. There was so much that he was still trying to wrap his head around that the outright acceptance from Dave was breaking down his fragile shields. In his mind, Spencer couldn't believe that this had gone as smoothly, as easily, as it had. Maybe it was just the exhaustion or pain from his sessions affecting him, but everything was just too much right now. He was simply overwhelmed.

Spencer swallowed, he couldn't speak. He couldn't form the words at this point and rather than open his mouth and break down crying, he opted to just nod quickly.

Rossi had been a profiler for almost as long as Spencer had been alive and knew that his friend was not nearly as ok as he wanted to appear. Discretion is the better part of valor, he thought as he pulled out of the parking space to take Spencer back to Walter Reed. He just prayed that if Spencer wasn't going to talk it out with him, that he would with someone. He hated to see his friend hurting like this, but he also knew that his friend was a hell of a lot tougher than even he gave himself credit.


	39. Chapter 39

Personal Life

There was something warm and solid wrapped around Spencer. He was still too asleep to try to reason out what it was, but whatever it was, it felt wonderful. He snuggled deeper into the warmth. As he snuggled, the warm lump started snuggling back. As he breathed in deeply, he started to realize that he was snuggled up against Aaron. His right leg was intertwined with Aaron's while his left was thrown over Aaron's stomach, letting Spencer grind his morning erection against the side of Aaron's hip. One of Aaron's arms was wrapped around Spencer's shoulder while the other was drawing lazy circles on Spencer's body, letting his hand trail up and down his left leg, around to his butt and back, gentle lazy movements that just spoke of love and contentment.

Rubbing against Aaron felt so good that soon it wasn't enough, he wanted more. Scissoring his legs, he pushed up with his right and down with his left, trying to leverage himself into Aaron's warmth even more if at all possible. As he did, his left leg bumped into the rather impressive erection that Aaron was currently sporting. The contact against his leg had Aaron thrusting his hips up involuntarily, seeking more of the friction. Spencer answered that by sliding his leg to lay between Aaron's, shifting more of his body on top of his husband and giving him access to rut against Spencer's hip. Spencer's own erection was receiving its own glorious treatment as he thrust against Aaron. Quickly the movements went from slow and lazy to hard and fast.

When they both came down from the high of orgasm, Aaron cupped Spencer's jaw in his hands and kissed him deeply before flopping back to the bed, entirely spent. Spencer giggled, "I'll go get a rag to clean up." It was when he rolled over and reached out for his wheelchair that realization struck-he had just had sex with his husband. He had sex with his husband who didn't seem to care one bit about the missing leg. Not only did Aaron still find him sexually attractive but they had just had sex. They. had. Sex. He hadn't had any problems just now and it was one of their favorite lazy morning activities.

For Spencer, it was like a lightbulb going off in his head. Up until now he had been overthinking everything, researching sex and marital aids to assist, spending far more time at their favorite toy store than he was willing to admit to his husband, and generally worrying himself into a self-imposed dry spell of fear. With how easily and naturally they had gotten off that morning, he needed to rethink everything. Maybe sex and intimacy wasn't going to be as difficult as he thought it was going to be. Maybe it would be a little more complicated, but it wasn't going to be impossible. They could still go at it like rabbits, albeit quiet rabbits given Jack just down the hall.

His thoughts were interrupted by Aaron's sleep roughened voice, "Are you getting up? Everything is starting to cool and I'm rather sticky now."

Spencer just laughed and made his way to get what Aaron wanted. As he grabbed a small towel and waited for the water to warm up, he let his mind wander. There was nothing like finally being home. Sure there were still a lot of things that needed to be worked out but those were just details. He was home and back where he belonged.


	40. Chapter 40

Personal Life

Despite being a Saturday, Aaron was neck deep in reports and requisitions. He was startled when he heard the door to his office open. Though given both Spencer and Jack were home this weekend, he was somewhat concerned that it had taken this long for anyone to interrupt. Even more surprising was that the door opened to Spencer and not Jack.

"Spencer," Aaron said, happiness lacing his voice.

"Aaron, I," he started, cleared his throat, and then continued roughly. "I need to go to the movies. Tonight."

Looking more closely at his husband, Aaron could see a tension in his carefully neutral expression. He could see Spencer's pulse fluttering in his neck and the trembling of the hands resting lightly on the wheels. "Just let me know when you are going. Would you like me to take you? I know that they can be draining."

The tension in Spencer's frame visibly dissipated as he nodded and quietly left the office.

BT

The rain that had started during the drive to the church where the NA meeting was being held fit Spencer's mood perfectly. He was secretly glad that Aaron had offered to drive, with how he was feeling right now he wasn't sure if he was steady enough to handle driving in the bad weather. Honestly, having Aaron at the wheel also kept temptation at bay.

Looking at his husband's profile, he smiled tightly. He was not so secretly glad that Aaron wasn't pushing him to talk or make conversation right now. There was so much he needed and wanted to say but this wasn't the time or place. He needed this meeting, badly, because he needed to talk. He just didn't want to talk to Aaron about this. Aaron who had been his rock, his anchor, since the incident didn't need to feel the brunt of Spencer's guilt too.

Arriving at the church, Aaron grabbed the wheelchair from the back, gave Spencer a kiss, and told him that he would be at the diner across the street whenever he was done; if he needed more time, particularly with his sponsor, he could find someplace else to go to give the two of them some privacy at the diner. Spencer smiled tightly, but gratefully, before heading into the meeting.

Spencer had gotten there early, a change from his usual sliding in the back at the last minute. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat off to the side, fidgeting slightly as people couldn't help but stare at him. He recognized some of the people from before his deployment, but most of the faces were new. It also didn't take a profiler to confirm that yes, most of these people worked in law enforcement on some level. Some of them obviously had military backgrounds too if he was reading them correctly. He stopped looking around and stared into the cheap, weak coffee he was holding. This was good, this is what he needed. He needed to be around people who understood and this was as close as he was going to get. He waited anxiously for the meeting to begin and made sure that he was going to be the first to speak.

"Hi, umm, I'm Spencer and I am an addict. For what felt like a long time I fought saying those words. I fought describing myself in terms of my addiction. That fight ended a long time ago and was what helped me to get clean. Now, I'm still an addict but I can accept that part of me. Recently, I have had to work on accepting a lot of things in my life, a lot of limitations and changes, things that I have been fighting almost as strongly as I fought my perception of my addiction. I have come to realise though that I have to stop fighting myself. I have too many things working against me anymore that I don't want to go against myself too. So here I am, Spencer, an addict."

"I don't know how long I've been clean. If you had asked me a few months ago I could have told you to the minute how long it had been since I had last shot up. The problem is that I don't know if that is the last time I've had narcotics. I still can't get a straight answer from anyone as to whether or not I was given any when this happened to me," he waved dismissively to his lap. "A lot of you would say that if I didn't willingly take them and they were given to me without my consent in a medical setting then it doesn't really count; I can keep tracking my sobriety from when I first got clean. As much as I want to view my sobriety that way, I can't. I also can't help but wonder if the fact that I have been craving them so much lately is because my body was reminded of the beautiful freedom and painlessness or if I have simply been through so much shit that I want that crutch again."

"If I'm honest, the cravings have been near to constant since I woke up. The last 2 months have been harder on my sobriety than the first 2 years," He took a deep breath, rubbing his hands across his face as though to erase whatever memory had come up. "It has been almost 2 months since I was in Iraq. I thought I was starting to put it behind me as best as I could and then, then the mail arrived today. Somehow I forgot about all of my stuff that was over there. I didn't get to bring it with me when they shipped me out, I was unconscious and barely alive, and it just caught up with me. I didn't know what was in the boxes when I started opening them up but then...oh God, then the smell hit me. There is nothing quite like that smell of dirt, sweat, grease, and misery. Everything was there, everything. Right down to the damned notebook I was writing in when we hit the IED."

"I want to feel violated and indignant that someone was going through all of my possessions there. That someone saw the sex toys that were sent to me, that someone else had to paw through my underwear to pack it away but I don't. I'm just too numb to any kind of personal indignities after everything that's happened. I can handle any of that shit but I can't handle the fact that I'm still here, that I survived and I have 3 Seabees, 3 shipmates that aren't. If I just got my stuff back that means that they did too. Today or tomorrow, boxes are going to start arriving at houses, addressed to the next of kin of men that were with me. Their families are going to open the boxes, sort through the items and start to wonder why their loved one never made it home. What kind of sick torture is that? Just when you think that you are ready to start moving forward you get slammed with all this crap. It gets thrown back in your face how you failed. How you failed your mission, how you failed your shipmates, how you let down all of those people who entrusted their loved ones to you, expecting you to bring them home safely. Hell, you even failed your husband because you didn't even make it home in one piece like you promised."

"Why did I survive? Why am I sitting here with you, a fucking junkie who has managed to avoid shooting up only because he couldn't get away from his keepers long enough to do so, when the guys we lost were so much better than that? They were young, smart, and had their whole lives ahead of them. Now they are buried in fucking boxes while their families are grieving and I'm sitting here mentally calculating how to avoid overdosing because of my lower body mass. I don't deserve to be here, I don't deserve to have come out on the other side when they didn't."

He didn't even wait to see if anyone would respond, he pushed himself out of the circle and towards the door. He was moving blindly through the church, his eyes were stinging and clouded with unshed tears, when he felt a tug on his wheelchair. "Let go," he growled, trying to pull away from the surprisingly strong grip.

"No, I'm not letting go. We need to talk, Spencer," a calm voice said. Spencer recognized it immediately as his sponsor. He hadn't seen John before the meeting had started and was surprised that he was there now. He must have come in late and stayed to the side where he would have been out of sight.

"I think I covered it all, John. What is left to say?"

"A lot. There is a lot we need to talk about and while this isn't the appropriate time for some of the conversations, it is for others," he countered. "Come on, I'll buy you a cup of coffee across the street."

Spencer knew he wasn't going to win this argument. For all the fire that had been burning in him since he had made his relatively dramatic exit a few minutes ago, he was now utterly drained. He shot a quick text to Aaron saying that he and his sponsor were headed to the diner. When his phone chirped that Aaron was paying and to let him know when the two were done so he could get picked up, Spencer finally looked at his sponsor. "You win. I'm tired of fighting."

A few minutes later, the two men were seated at a table, mugs of coffee in hand. Spencer was clutching his as though it was the only tether he had to this world. He didn't want to be the first to speak but he also knew that John's patience was such that if he didn't they would sit there all night. He also knew that he needed to talk and this was his chance. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

John looked at the man across from him. Spencer had come to his attention when Gideon had returned from the west coast recruiting trip speaking of nothing but the genius that was going to be coming to the FBI. He recalled the gangly young man making it through the academy and being swiftly brought into the fold of the BAU. In that fold he had grown and flourished. While there had been stumbles along the way, including the one that had brought Spencer and John together at the Beltway Clean Cops, John felt nothing but pride for the amazing man that Spencer had grown into. "You are sorry for what, exactly?"

"Everything," Spencer said hiding behind his mug.

"Including not calling me when you were back in the states and struggling? You know that's why I'm here, right?" John asked bluntly.

Spencer sighed, "I know but as I kind of let slip earlier, I have some other issues I'm working through right now. I thought they were the cause of my cravings and if I could get them straightened out, I'd be ok. I haven't been trying to go it entirely alone, I've been working with plenty of therapists and it was inevitable that my addiction would come up. I wasn't ready to face the fact that it was all wrapped up together. I'm self aware enough to know that much of my guilt is self imposed survivor's guilt. From an outside perspective it is rather fascinating, the issues of reintegration that I'm facing as a wounded combat veteran are feeding into my drug addiction which in turn is making me susceptible to the psychological issues with which I'm struggling. It is just this miserable circle of hell that I'm trying to break out of but I can't seem to do it. Just when I think I'm making progress something happens, like today."

Spencer finally looked up from the cup of coffee in his hands, "John, I don't know what I'm doing and I'm really struggling here. I need to get back to normal, I need structure and routine, I...do you think I'll be able to come to the Bureau?"

"I'll be honest, Spencer, I don't know," John paused, expecting Spencer to argue. He was surprised that his companion merely nodded slowly, eyes once again downcast. "I don't know because I can tell that you aren't ready yet. Obviously there are physical challenges that will need to be overcome. Are you looking to be a full field agent again or coming back as a consultant? Technically you are still employed by the Bureau as you have not come off your military orders yet. As you get closer to your orders ending, we can discuss particulars. Look, I want you to know that you have my full support in whatever you decide, Spencer, but you also can't rush it. You want normalcy, you want structure, good. You need it. You also need time to grieve. Not only did your life change drastically but you lost friends over there and you don't recover from that overnight."

"Thank you," Spencer said quietly. His voice barely a whisper. "I know I have a lot of shit to deal with before I can get cleared." He looked up briefly, mouth quirking into a slight smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes, "even though I'm sure if you put me in front of a Bureau psychologist I'd probably be able to pass the evaluation tomorrow."

John laughed deeply, relieved to see that he still had his sense of humor. "That you probably could. I won't though, I can't really until your orders end. When does that happen anyway?"

"2 weeks from tomorrow. I'm actually currently on my 'terminal leave'. I'm using up all of the leave I accrued while being deployed and then undergoing treatment. Once that is up, I'll be looking to come back."

"Good, I expect you in my office in 2 weeks and 2 days to discuss what you want from your future with the Bureau," John said decisively. "Now, how about some pie? I believe that I saw a fresh blueberry in the display case when we arrived."

"Blueberry pie sounds wonderful, thank you," Spencer said. He relaxed back into his chair, grateful for the support he had found in John. He finally admitted to himself that one of the reasons he hadn't called John when he was struggling before was because he had feared that while being supportive of him in the role of an NA sponsor, that John would destroy the hope Spencer had of coming back to the BAU. Spencer was now confident that there would be a way back, even if it wasn't as a field agent and that was making him breathe a lot easier already. 


	41. Chapter 41

BAU Life

"This was a bad idea," Spencer said as he picked at the pale grey fabric of his pants. "How did you talk me into this again? Why can't I just tell them one by one?"

"You will be fine. If I let you tell them one by one then you would never get around to telling anyone. You have been putting it off long enough. For Pete's sake, you are already cleared for office work and you haven't told anyone here but Dave. I don't even count that because he accidentally learned." Aaron answered shortly. His voice softened as he realized he was being rather harsh given that Spencer was just venting nervous energy. "Look, everyone will be so excited to see you that nothing else will matter. Remember that it was your decision to tell them here at work, Dave and I both tried to talk you into telling them on a more neutral ground. This was your choice. Besides, we have a case and that should be their main focus."

Spencer laughed mirthlessly."Right, like the team is going to let anything go. We will be raked over the coals for not telling them that I was back let alone that I was injured," Spencer said as he slouched deeper into his chair, pulling the file folder closer and pretending to read it. "Besides," he continued "the case won't last forever."

"We will be raked over the coals? We? I am innocent in the deception, you were the one to ask that I not tell them. Spencer, I promise that they will act like the professionals that they are. I will see to that as both Hotch and Aaron," came the reply, complete with a steely glare that Spencer could feel even without looking over the folder's edge.

When Spencer did dare take the chance to glance up at his husband in full Unit Chief mode, he was distracted by the opening of the elevator, visible through the open conference room door and glass walls of the BAU bullpen. "Well, it is too late to change my mind now." He set the folder down and gave Hotch his own glare before dropping his hands to nervously finger the edge of his vest. "Ready or not, here they come..."

Across the floor, the remaining members of the BAU team were joking as they stepped off the elevator. JJ and Garcia had their heads bent down looking and laughing at something on Garcia's tablet. Rossi, Anderson, and Morgan were coming up behind them shaking their heads at the antics of their teammates. When Derek reached forward to open the door before the women walked into it, he glanced up to see Hotch standing in the conference room talking to someone sitting at the round table. A second glance confirmed what he thought he saw. "Pretty Boy's back!"

That exclamation caused everyone to pause. Garcia broke the stunned silence with the thought that everyone had "Why didn't I know about this? How did I miss this? Did anyone know?"

"Now, now, it doesn't matter who knew. What matters is that he is here and that we have a case. Shall we get moving?" Rossi said taking the door from Derek and ushering them into the bullpen. Garcia was the last through the door and she looked sharply at Rossi before she accused "You knew he was back. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Ah, my dear Penelope, are you sure you aren't a profiler?" Rossi smirked as he moved towards the conference room leaving her spluttering in his wake.

"Reid! You're back. When did you get here? Are you back for this case? Are you back for real?" The team burst into the room, peppering Spencer with questions as they rushed towards him.

"Settle down and get seated. Yes, Reid is back but in a limited capacity for now. He will not be traveling with us. Questions for him can wait until we aren't working this case. Now, we have 4 dead bodies in Massachusetts. Case details are on your tablets, Reid you have your file. Go ahead Garcia," Hotch began as everyone hurried towards seats and turned their attention to the case being presented.

Garcia stepped up to the screen and began filling in the details of the case. The briefing was short, lasting only a few more minutes before everyone knew that anything else would only be gained after getting on site. Hotch wrapped the briefing with his usually brusque "Wheels up in 30 minutes."

Everyone started to gather their notes and tablets. Garcia spoke up, a wicked grin gracing her face. "Reid, does this make you my bitch now?"

As Spencer was reaching down to get his messenger bag from the floor, he paused to look over at Garcia, "Yes, I guess it does. This won't be like last time though, will it?"

"Oh, Junior G-Man, I'll go easy on you! This is your first case back," she laughed.

As everyone but Spencer stood and started towards the door, Derek jokingly asked: "Are you just going to sit there, Pretty Boy?"

He smiled nervously and replied "Well, uhh, yes?" He pushed back from the table, the team finally taking in that he was not sitting on one of the conference room chairs. Spencer was all too conscious of the silence that had fallen and that everyone was now blatantly staring at him. When he reached the group at the door, he tried for casual "Well, are you guys going or what?" The cracking of his voice at the end made it clear that he was nervous.

"What happened, Reid?"

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, dropping his bag that had been sitting on his lap. Without the messenger bag, it became even more obvious that his left leg ended just above where his knee had been. "Well, uh...there was an incident on deployment. I, hmm...well, it doesn't matter now, does it? I hope that this doesn't change anything. I mean, I know things will need to change. Things have changed, I've changed, obviously. That doesn't matter though, I can still work. I've spoken with Strauss and some others and they put some restrictions on me, like this no travel thing for the time being. If things go well though, I'll be cleared for travel soon and maybe even field work one day. For the most part, I'll wear my prosthesis but there are going to be times that I won't be able to do so. It is going to mean bringing my wheelchair when I do start traveling but...Well, Like today, I try to wear my leg most days to get used to it but well, it was bothering me this morning and I wasn't expecting a case and..." he started to trail off from his agitated ramblings. "I hope that you guys are ok with me being back like this. Please say you are ok with it? With me?" By the end he was looking up at his teammates with pleading eyes.  
"Oh, Spence! Of course we are ok with you. Why wouldn't we be? We have missed you and are just thrilled to have you back," JJ spoke first.

Garcia was shaking her head, tears threatening to start rolling down her cheeks. "I don't know how I missed this. Ever since the Reaper incident, I've had you all flagged. I should have seen the moment that you were checked into a hospital." Garcia rushed over to give Spencer a hug, knocking him and his chair back. "Junior G-Man, this is all my fault!"

As he steadied himself, locking the wheels, he leaned into the hug and reminded her "You can't hack all the systems, Garcia."

"Watch me, Reid,.I can't believe I let this happen to you," she said while not letting go of him.

"Ugh, Garcia? Pen? Could you please let go? I, ugh, I need to breathe," Spencer croaked when he realized that not only had Garcia not let up in her hug but had actually started squeezing harder.

"Oh, oh! I am so sorry, I don't know what came over me! I'm just going to go and get everything ready down in my cave. You are still working with me? Right? I promise I won't make you my bitch this time, I'll take care of you, I swear!" Garcia's voice was muffled by the fact that despite her apology, she still had yet to let go of Spencer.

Hotch, sensing that things were getting off track spoke up "20 minutes to wheels up now."

The announcement spurred everyone back into action, much to Spencer's relief.

"We gotta go, but don't think that you will get out of answering some questions later," Derek said as he left the room.

Spencer let everyone but Aaron leave the conference room before he made for the door. He looked to his husband, "You were right. I admit it, you were right. Thank you. Though I'm not sure you deserve to gloat as I know that this only delayed the inquisition."

Aaron laughed, "I never doubted that it would happen eventually, but I'm trying to keep them at bay for the time being. I want you to get settled in before letting them loose."

Spencer looked out over the bullpen for a moment before turning back to face Aaron. "Go ahead and let them loose. I never should have waited this long to tell them. This was my first job and my first real family. Having their acceptance, even conditional to the inevitable interrogation, means everything right now. Now that I know that I have it, settling back into normal will be easy. Well, settling into a new normal." He gave a small smile and began to move toward his desk and his waiting teammates.


	42. Chapter 42

BAU Life

Spencer had been back at the BAU for a month now. He hated the fact that he was stuck at Quantico while the team traveled but understood the necessity of it as he still had a number of appointments, from PT to therapy and everything in between. Another benefit to being home during team travel is that it gave him time to spend with Jack one on one.

Jack had definitely been a bright point to Spencer's recovery. As much as he had worried over how or what to tell the young boy, it had turned out to not be necessary. The second he saw Spencer, he had run and jumped into his lap, too excited to see him to care about the circumstances. Unfortunately, he landed right on Spencer's leg, the resulting pain making the rest of the reunion highly uncomfortable for him. Jack though took everything in stride. He was more upset that his Papa was hurt by the bad guys than anything else. The frank acceptance and love from Jack did wonders in improving Spencer's attitude and recovery.

Not everything had been sunshine and roses though. While it was mostly getting over the shock of their youngest teammate being injured, there were still hurdles and personality clashes as he was settling back in at work.

Derek had been properly freaked out at first, upset that the man he considered his younger brother had gotten hurt. It was obvious though that he would move heaven and earth for Spencer if he said the word. It had actually worked to Spencer's advantage as they had spent several fun and soul-baring weekends together doing minor alterations around the Hotchner-Reid household. Spencer was happy to say that he had helped Derek and Derek was happy to have used his skills to make life easier for his friend. Now, things were back to normal between the two men, practical jokes and taunts flew across the bullpen freely during the day.

Anderson had been the dark horse when it came to team members. While he had been filling in for Spencer in the field during the deployment, the two men had little interaction prior to Spencer's return. With him back it took a few long discussions, including with Hotch and Strauss to work out that until Spencer was cleared for travel at a minimum, Anderson would remain with the team, both in the office and the field. Once cleared for travel Anderson would be free to go back to his in-house support role that he greatly preferred. This delegation of responsibilities and clearly defined limits made both men feel more comfortable and the two were quickly becoming friends, in and out of the office.

JJ's response was about what he expected once he actually thought about it. She was having a hard time dealing with it and it was slightly annoying to Spencer. He hadn't changed in any way other than physically as far as he was concerned, so why was she being so awkward around him? It was like she was walking on eggshells, expecting him to break down, or lash out. He shook his head, the worst part of it was that she kept bemoaning to him that she didn't know how to tell Henry about his Godfather. Even when Spencer tried to explain that it wasn't a big deal, look at how Jack handled it, she would go off about traumatizing Henry. At this point, Spencer had given up for the moment, hoping that by letting the issue rest that eventually she would come around. In the meantime, he called Henry and kept in touch via email and letters as much as possible.

Finally, there was Garcia. Her reaction had been by far the most dramatic. Where JJ had gone the direction of ignoring the elephant in the room, Garcia had embraced it, saddled it, and was trying to parade said elephant down the halls of Quantico. Well, not really, but she had been rather over the top. During cases when he was working from the office with her, she was smothering him. She would constantly bring him coffee, food, pillows, blankets, anything that she could think of that he might possibly need to prevent him from needing to leave his desk. She hovered constantly; when he had refused to work from her cave choosing to work from his desk as usual she had hauled all of her stuff to the bullpen and taken over Morgan's desk. Once settled there she had continued to hover and inundate him with gifts and get well cards. The stuffed animals with a leg cut off, the flowers, the cookies, everything had just been too much. After several weeks of attempting to work with her, made worse by the team being pulled on back to back cases out of town, he had reached his limit.

Spencer rarely got so angry that he yelled at work. Usually, he was incredibly patient and would try to take a non-confrontational approach to resolve issues. Garcia had either been oblivious to his subtle requests to back off or she had been pointedly ignoring them. Either way, coming to his desk and finding she had moved all of his books in order to fit a breakfast spread of coffee, fruit, muffins, and some unidentifiable egg casserole was just too much. He tried to tell her he appreciated her thoughtfulness but that she just needed to cool it. She hadn't said anything at the time and since then had barely said or made eye contact with him.

That was 2 weeks ago. While he had tried to apologize, he found that it was almost impossible to corner her. When he did, she wouldn't even look at him, would change the subject and focus solely on work. He knew he shouldn't have snapped as he did and now he needed to find a way to seek forgiveness. Without giving her the option he informed her that she was in need of pizza and a Dr. Who marathon. With the case solved but weather preventing any flights from leaving, it was the perfect opportunity to corner her and get some answers. Ideally, it would also fix or at least identify what had changed in their friendship. He really missed having someone with whom to geek out at the office.

Spencer eased himself down on to the couch in Garcia's apartment. He had already snagged a bottle of water and had all the relevant remotes in reach. "Garcia! Get your butt in here. I've got everything set up and just need you and pizza. Is the pizza here yet?" he called out.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, the pizza just got here," Garcia came into the room, arms loaded down with pizza boxes and candy. "Where are we starting? New doctor or old? Did you want a plate? Oh! Napkins. I have paper towels, is that good enough?"

"Garcia, calm down," he said gently. She had been extremely flustered, rushing around, rambling, and continuing to avoid eye contact even in the comfort of her own home. "I think we should talk before we get into the Doctor Who. What is going on? Why are you acting so nervous around me? Why are you pretty much avoiding me unless I corner you now? I am sorry I blew up at you the other day but even my blow up doesn't explain this kind of behaviour."

Garcia stopped where she had been fussing with the pizza and candy on the coffee table. She sat back on the couch and without looking at Spencer responded. "Was I being that obvious?"

"Garcia, a blind man would have noticed!" Spencer said with a laugh. He was happy to see that his response had at least gotten her to grin briefly. "Talk to me, please." He tried to use a gentle tone, one that was normally reserved for skittish witnesses or victims.

Recognizing the tone he has used, she turned to glare at him briefly before focusing her attention back on the food table. "Stop treating me like one of your victims or, or some potential UNSUB. I...it's just...Argh! Stop it! Why can't we just sit here and watch tv? Do we have to talk?"

With seemingly infinite patience he responded, "Garcia, I'm not doing anything. We can just sit here and watch tv if you want. I just don't want you to be upset with me." Spencer was well aware that he wasn't just saying the words to get her to talk, he truly missed the friendship that they had. "I have been gone for so long, I've missed our movie nights. I've missed you. Please don't shut me out."

His earnest request cracked Garcia's resolve. "Oh, Boy Genius, I've missed you too. I just...well, everything that happened to you is all my fault. I never should have suggested that you join the military, I never should have pushed. It is all my fault. And then you come back and I mess everything up by hovering and smothering and I don't want you to hate me. I'm so sorry," she barely got the words out of her mouth before she broke down sobbing.

"Shhh, shh...it's ok Garcia. It isn't your fault. I was the one who joined. It wasn't you. You didn't do anything. Shh, shh," Spencer scooted closer on the couch to his friend, wrapping her in a hug. As soon as she felt his arms wrap around her, she began crying even harder. Spencer thought that he could hear her trying to form words but they were lost to the muffling properties of his sweater.

Unsure of what else to do, Spencer just held her while she cried. He kept murmuring soothing words and sounds to her. Eventually, her sobs gave way to small hiccups; her hiccups gave way to soft sniffles.

"I really am sorry, Spencer," she mumbled into his chest.

He hugged her little tighter, "You have no reason to be sorry. You might have given me the idea but I was the one who actually applied. I was the one who stayed in after my initial obligation, I was the one who accepted the orders to deploy, and I was the one who got in the vehicle. You have done nothing but support but me through each and every step of the way. I don't want that change, you and your friendship mean too much to me. Just...just know that I haven't changed that much. I'm still me, Garcia. Sure, some things are a lot harder for me to do right now, but I don't need you or anyone else trying to do everything for me. I don't need to to be smothered in gifts or anything like that. I just need life to get back to as normal as possible. Can you do that? Can you treat me just the same as before any of this happened?"

While Spencer had been giving his speech, Garcia had pulled away from his hug to look at his face. Even though she wasn't a profiler by training, she had spent far too much time with them to have not picked up certain skills. Spencer's face was open, honest, and pleading as he spoke. She knew that she had been treating him differently, going from one extreme to the other but she didn't know how to act normally again and said as much.

"Just...just pretend that this is like when I got shot in the knee and was forced to stay back with you until I got cleared by a medical doctor. Same thing," he continued with a relieved smile.

"Is that all? That's all you want? I can do that," Garcia said nodding slowly.

Spencer gave her a kiss on the forehead followed by a gentle nudge out of his lap. "Great! Now let's eat, I'm starving and want to ogle Number 11 in peace until Aaron gets home tomorrow, then I can ogle him."


	43. Chapter 43

Battalion Life

It didn't take a profiler to see that Spencer was nervous. No matter the day of the week, Spencer rarely looked at the clock. He preferred to focus his full attention on the cases at hand and allow himself to be pleasantly surprised when everything wrapped up for the day. Today though, Aaron had seen him glance towards the clock no less than 5 times in the last 20 minutes. If he was counting correctly, Spencer should be looking up again in 3...2...and...

Spencer looked up at the clock on the wall which was now reading 5:00 on the dot. Without sparing a glance up towards his husband's office, he was throwing files and a few other items into his bag and making his way towards the elevator. No one in the bullpen had even had the chance to question why he was rushing out of the office while Aaron was still calmly sipping a cup of coffee and watching the team wrap up their paperwork.

Stepping up behind Aaron, Dave quietly questioned, "What's going on with Reid? I've never seen him so jumpy."

Aaron didn't look back at Dave as he took another sip of coffee. "He is meeting one of his friends for dinner. This particular friend is one he met in the Navy and doesn't know how badly he was injured during the deployment. He is nervous about how the friend is going to react and treat him after he finds out."

"Ah, that would explain it," Dave agreed.

A non-committal hum was the only response that Aaron gave before making his way back to his office. Even though he needed to pick Jack up from his after school program, he had a bit of time to get some more work done. With Spencer gone for the evening he was even considering taking Jack out for some father and son bonding. Maybe dinner at the diner followed by a trip to the arcade? That should be sufficiently distracting for him. He didn't want to overthink and worry about his husband. Spencer was an adult and perfectly capable of handling himself. Still, he knew that if things didn't go well with Adam that it was going to hurt Spencer a lot more than he would admit. Determined to let things play out without interference, Aaron began to gather his papers and pack up for the weekend.

BT

Spencer's hands were sweating and making it difficult for him to hold the cane that was helping to support him. The cane was a very recent advancement for Spencer; his therapy had been going so well that he had graduated to using the cane. Even his therapists were optimistic that this would be a short term situation before he was able to manage without additional aids.

He had been debating back and forth if he was going to wear his prosthesis or not when he went out to meet Adam. While he didn't want to shock his friend, he also wanted to get the inevitable surprise out of the way so that the two could catch up. Going without his prosthesis would certainly take care of sharing the news quickly but wouldn't give him any time to provide a lead in and explanation. Wearing his leg would give him the opportunity to ease himself into the conversation because Adam was at least familiar enough with Spencer's tendency towards injury that seeing him with a cane would cause him to barely bat an eyelash. In the end, the decision was made for him when he realized that he had left the office to head directly to the restaurant while having left his wheelchair safely ensconced in the trunk of Aaron's car.

Despite the traffic he encountered, Spencer still made it to the restaurant long before Adam did. He had been seated and was nursing a cup of coffee when he saw his friend walk through the doors and head towards the hostess stand. Grabbing his cane, Spencer pushed himself to an awkward standing position, catching Adam's eye and motioning him over.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the long lost LT Reid! How have you been? I heard you were part of the convoy that got hit. Not too banged up are you?" Adam said as he came around to hug Spencer. It was then he noticed that his friend was leaning heavily on a cane. "Dude, you didn't screw up your knee again, did you?"

Spencer could feel his face start to flush, "Ah, no, um, not exactly. I didn't do anything to my knee in particular. Uh, let's sit down," he stammered, breaking the embrace and quickly finding his seat again.

The waitress had been hovering, waiting to get Adam's drink order. Once he had placed it, he turned his full attention back to Spencer. "So, start talking! How was the deployment? When did you get back? You have been sorely missed around Battalion. You heard that we are getting decommissioned right? Somehow I got put in charge of planning the event. You do NOT know what misery is until you have to plan not only the ceremony but the gala to follow. Did you know that there is an entire protocol manual!? Why didn't they teach us this stuff at INDOC or CECOS?"

"Well, if we were active duty attending CECOS, we would have been there for closer to three months instead of two weeks. I know that during that time they do actually plan and have a Dining In which would fall under the 'gala' type event you are describing. Really, it is our fault for being reservists and thus not knowing proper procedures for events like this. Aren't there any former active duty junior officers that could take over the planning for this?"

Adam snorted and took a sip of the beer that had arrived. "I wish! That would make my life so much easier. Sadly, no. Hey, do you want to help? I know you are still doing your post-deployment authorized absence thing so you aren't drilling or doing much of anything with the Navy right now, but I could really use a hand. I just can't wait for it to be over and I can move on; I'm so over battalion life these days. What are you going to do when the flag comes down on 23?"

"I don't know. I haven't given it much thought. Have you talked to the detailer? Where will you go?" he attempted to redirect the question.

"Not sure. I was thinking some nice cushy unit like PACOM or NAVFAC. No thoughts on what's next for you? That doesn't sound like the Reid I know and love. You should be thinking about this, you will be in zone for promotion soon, probably before you are eligible for deployment again."

"Things are...ahh...complicated right now," Spencer hedged.

"Complicated? Aw, you didn't let that man of yours knock you up did you?" Adam joked. "Is that why you aren't having a drink?"

Spencer snorted, "Hardly. Besides, how do you know I didn't knock HIM up?"  
"Nope, nope, you are far more likely to be pregnant than him.  
You are the pretty one in the relationship. I doubt he can keep his hands off of you. Seriously though, what could be so complicated?"

Spencer smirked, "If you say so. Though I'm not sure why we are talking about my sex life right now."

"Because you have one? I haven't gotten laid in, well, far too long. I need to live vicariously! So, details. And complicated? I need details if it isn't pregnancy!"

Shifting in his seat, Spencer's discomfort with the direction of the conversation was becoming clear, "Well, I told you that I didn't exactly hurt my knee, right? Um, this is why I said that." He turned in his seat, allowing for Adam to have a clear view of his left leg and proceeded to pull up on his pant leg until the prosthesis could be seen clearly.

"Well fuck me," Adam said staring at the metal contraption that had taken the place of Spencer's leg.

"Hmm...I don't think Aaron would like it much if I did that," Spencer said with forced humor.

"You said you got hurt when you were gone but I didn't expect this! Dude, what the fuck? Why didn't you tell me right away? I thought we were friends."

Spencer narrowed his gaze, "Well, right after the IED I was a little busy getting my leg cut off and attempting to heal from all the other injuries that were secondary to this. After that, I was focusing my attention on the little things, like coming to terms with the fact that I got 3 of our Seabees killed, several more injured, oh, and also managed to fuck up my own life in the process. Forgive me for not calling you the second I woke up, but I've been a bit distracted."

The harsh and bitterly sarcastic words coming from the usually reserved Spencer broke through Adam's shock. With each word, Adam deflated a little; Spencer was one of his closest friends. Why was he even upset over this? God knows what he had been dealing with since the explosion. He couldn't even imagine what it must have been like for him. All he wanted was to help his friend and getting upset for not being told when he wanted rather than when Spencer was ready was not the way to show his support. Hopefully, he hadn't screwed up their friendship too badly. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"You know you are one of my closest friends, right? That's why I wanted to see you before any kind of official drill or event.. I haven't exactly been spreading the word about what happened to me over there. I know I won't be able to hide it forever, but I wanted to tell you personally. I didn't want you to find out from some random person who heard it from someone else who knows someone over at Walter Reed," Spencer replied, his anger bleeding out. He knew that Adam was coming from a place of concern for him but it was still frustrating. This whole situation hadn't exactly been easy for Spencer. Close to 6 months later and he was still barely scratching the surface of the 'shit' as his therapist had jokingly called it. It wasn't just the physical changes, on some level those were the easiest. The crushing guilt that came from being the person in charge when his men were killed and injured? The PTSD that still had him breaking into a cold sweat and suffering nightmares and panic attacks? Those were the parts that he was still having trouble handling. He really didn't need anyone, even a close friend telling him what he should or should not have done in the aftermath. He alone was the one who had to figure this all out and Adam and everyone else who had some opinion of that sort would just need to deal with it.

"Can I touch it?" Adam's question interrupted Spencer's train of thought.

"Have you ever touched my thigh before? That's your answer," Spencer said, confused and slightly annoyed at having his thoughts interrupted. The annoyance died the moment that he realised Adam had gotten up from his seat, moved next to him, and was now reaching towards his leg.

"What the fuck, Carlisle?"

"What? You asked if I had ever touched your thigh before and that was my answer. I have touched your thighs before, who do you think helped pull your pants down and hold you steady while you got your tattoo a couple of years ago? This wouldn't be my first time touching you," Adam responded plainly.

Spencer wanted to smack himself for forgetting that particular escapade and Adam's involvement in his body decorations. "Then no, please don't touch my leg. I promise that it feels just like it did the last time you touched it. Besides, with the prosthesis all you would feel is hard plastic. Geez, go sit back in your seat!"

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Adam spoke again, "What are you going to do now?"

"What do you mean, what am I going to do now? In the immediate short term I'm considering flagging down the waitress because goodness knows I could use a drink after your very public attempt at groping me."

"I mean, I've been rambling on and on during our previous conversations about the decommissioning events and where I'm looking to get orders and...well, can you stay in? Are they retiring you? Can you get a retirement? Would you even want to stay in? Are you going back to work? Can you work?"

"Yes, no, sort of, yes, yes, and yes," Spencer said. "In that order."

"Whoa, back up, I don't even remember what I asked!"

"Yes, I can actually stay in the Navy, on the reserve side at least. No, they aren't retiring me. Yes, I could have gotten a type of retirement but because I want to stay in I'm not being retired. The last two can be summed up with yes, I can work and in fact I've started back at the office already. I'm not cleared for travel or field work yet but I'm working again. In a couple of months when I'm better with my prosthesis I'll start working towards getting cleared for field duty but at this point getting cleared to travel has more to do with getting the sign off from my physical therapist and the Bureau psychologist. They want to be sure that I will be able to handle the stress of traveling and the need to handle my own PT while out and about for potentially extended periods of time. They also want to be sure that i"m not going to have a psychological break on them while traveling."

"As for the decommissioning events, I am actually looking forward to them. I love a chance to get Aaron dressed up, the post-party sex is always amazing," Spencer said dreamily.

"Ewwwww, too much information there, buddy! I do not want to know what you and your husband get up to behind closed doors. But...ummm...how does that work? I mean, can you still...uhh..."

"I'm missing my leg not my dick, Carlisle," Spencer responded bluntly. Not for the first time he was glad to have a friend like Adam. He was one of the few people who just accepted that he was a young man with a healthy sex life. Other friends, like Derek, had a tendency to remember Spencer as the awkward youth who had joined the BAU and couldn't reconcile that image with that of a sexual being. Being able to snark and make ridiculous jokes with Adam was a welcome change.

BT

Even though he was trying to hide it, Aaron was getting worried. Spencer had said that he was just going to meet up with Adam for dinner and then head home. It was now almost 1 AM and Spencer wasn't back yet. He had texted earlier that he might be later than planned but had not sent anything back since Aaron's acknowledgement. He didn't want to worry about his husband, he knew that he was a smart and capable man, but there was still that edge of worry. What if something had happened to him? What if he was having issues with his leg? He had left his work wheelchair in Aaron's car this morning. If he ran into problems he…

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard a key in the lock. Rushing towards the door, he was there as Spencer stumbled into the entryway.

"Aaron...oh Aaron, my love," Spencer sang in a mock whisper. "Where are you? Oh, Aaron…."

"Spencer! Where have you been? I've been worried, you didn't call, you didn't respond to my text messages, are you ok?" As he rushed towards his husband who was attempting to take off his shoes and jacket he noticed that there was more than just usual clumsiness at play. "Are, are you drunk? Please tell me you didn't drive home."

"Umm...I might be a little drunk. Just a little...just enough that I took a cab," he said, attempting to untangle himself from his jacket that he had not quite finished unzipping before removing. "I'll get my car tomorrow. Or is that today?" Spencer giggled and started to fall forward.

Aaron caught him gently, bringing him upright with an admonishing "Spencer!"

"Besides, I'm a big boy, if I want to go out with my friends I should be allowed," he pouted. "You aren't my dad and I don't have a curfew. So there."

"I'm your husband, it is part of the job description that I'm going to worry," Aaron retorted.

"If you say so, DAD. Umm, could you help me to bed? I don't remember where I left my wheelchair," Spencer asked looking around utterly bewildered.

"Come on then," Aaron said as he put wrapped Spencer's left arm around the back of his neck and wrapped his own arm around Spencer's waist, ready to guide the slim man to their bedroom. He was prepared to pour Spencer into their bed but he wasn't prepared for Spencer's reaction to the intimacy of Aaron's position.

"Ohh, can you move your hand a little, just...right there," Spencer said as he guided Aaron's right hand lower on his waist until it was pressing into the tattoo on his hip, just a hair's breadth away from the bulge that was growing more noticeable the longer Aaron held Spencer. "Mmm...yes, God, just a bit," he wiggled closer into Aaron, leaning heavily against his chest and pressing his face into Aaron's neck as he moaned softly.

Aaron started to chuckle, "You are rather worked up, something you want to tell me about your dinner with Adam?"

"He just wanted to talk about our sex life. At first he thought you had knocked me up but when I set him straight, hehe, straight, he was just asking all kinds of questions. How do we have sex? Does it hurt my leg to have sex? Does it freak you out? I can't help it, thinking of you and sex at the same time made me horny. Can we have sex? Please? Pretty please?"

He placed a sweet kiss to the top of Spencer's head, the only part he could reach as Spencer tried his best to crawl into his husband, "Not tonight. You have had a bit too much."

"It's all Carlisle's fault. He kept asking questions and I usually need to be drinking to answer his questions. So I drank. So I'm drunk," Spencer's expression slid from drunken sullenness to silliness.

"Which is why I'm going to put you to bed, right now. Come on, move it Dr. Reid," Aaron said as he all but carried his drunk and giggling husband to their bedroom.

Spencer passed out almost immediately once changed and in bed. "I'm glad tonight went well," Aaron whispered as he wrapped himself around Spencer and let sleep claim his as well. 


	44. Chapter 44

BAU Life

The wind was bitterly cold as it whipped around the figures making their way to the plane waiting on the tarmac. The closer one got to the plane, the slower he walked until he had stopped entirely. A second person came up to stand next to him.

"What's going through your mind?" The second person said.

"Are you asking as Aaron or Hotch?" Spencer replied, turning to face his husband and boss.

With an uncharacteristic shrug, Aaron replied, "Both. I know that this is going to be difficult for you. It is your first case traveling with us since you got back. There is a lot going on for you right now. "

"All that sounds like Aaron and not Hotch," Spencer grinned slightly.

"Perhaps, but as Hotch, I want to make sure your head is in the game right now," he said bluntly.

Spencer's small grin turned into a full smile. "That's more like it. That's the Hotch I know and love. I just want things to be back to normal even though normal is a relative term. Traveling with the team again is a step towards that but.."

"But it is one thing for the team to know and accept you right now and a completely different thing for you to be working with local forces," Aaron finished. "Reid, Spencer, listen, you have been working with us from Quantico for the past few months. You know you are capable of handling the casework. It doesn't really matter what the locals think. This is no different than you traveling while you were still recovering from the gunshot wound that had you on crutches. At least this time you were cleared for travel by a real medical doctor."

Spencer sighed, ignoring Aaron's attempt at humor, and looked away from Aaron. "I know that. This just feels different though because I won't get better. This is what it is going to be like from here on out. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that I've been cleared for travel, but it is a shallow victory. I might as well stop being a profiler and just work in JJ's old role. I can't exactly help with takedowns and storming the castle now."

He laughed bitterly as he looked back at the plane that was waiting for them. "It is ironic that I joined the Navy to show everyone that I was just as capable as everyone else to be in the field and it was the Navy that then took away my ability to do just that."

"Spencer, you will get cleared for field duty. I know," Aaron began before getting cut off.

"It's ok. I've had a lot of time to think and start to make peace with the situation. Even my NA meetings have helped, "Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change?" I'm not there yet, but I am a lot closer than I was before. Come on, let's go before the plane leaves without us."

And with that, Spencer started to move towards the plane. His gait was slow and deliberate. From the tension that Aaron could see in his body, Spencer was doing everything he could to prove to anyone watching that nothing was bothering him. He only wished that the young profiler would come to realize that he had nothing to prove.

BT

It wasn't often that Hotch wanted to throttle the local law enforcement, but this case was absolutely one of those rare moments. Every single person that the team had encountered in the small precinct in southern Alabama seemed to have a very strong opinion on just what it meant to be an FBI agent. These opinions were shared frankly with Hotch, especially given how the team he had gathered around him did not fit their ideas. From the 'jumped up coloured boy' to the 'women folk' who should be at home tending to a brood of children, it seemed as though only Dave and himself had been exempt from derision. It didn't matter that the very people being ridiculed had made more progress in the 3 days they had been there than the locals had in three weeks.

Without a doubt, Reid had confused them. While on the surface he appeared to be exactly what they wanted from an agent, a white male of obvious intelligence, there were other aspects that didn't mesh with the preconceived notions. Thanks to months of therapy and the use of crutches and a wheelchair, Spencer's upper body had filled out nicely. Despite the obvious strength present, he still tended to try to blend into the background and at times came across as very meek. That he kept to himself in the conference room, working diligently on the geographic profile and not running down suspects did not fit to the idea that men should be the ones on the front line.

The few locals who had the courage to speak of Reid had been peppering him with questions about the young man. Was he really a Doctor? A medical doctor? Was he really an agent? Why is he limping? Was he hurt? Was he a faggot? Is that why he was working alone? Those were some of the less offensive questions coming to Hotch about Reid. Gritting his teeth, he reassured the locals that yes Dr. Reid was, in fact a decorated agent who had recently been injured. The sexual orientation of Reid or any other member of the team was not germane to the investigation and thus was not going to be discussed. The last part usually said through clenched teeth as he wanted to tell them that Reid wasn't the only one on the team who was not straight, but in fact the agent with whom they were talking was the one with whom Reid was having very, VERY gay sex.

The tension and sideways glances were starting to get under Spencer's skin. He had tried ignoring them, putting all of his considerable focus on the case and profile. He knew he was under a lot of scrutiny, not just from the locals, but from the Bureau as well. Even though he had passed all of the tests set before him and gotten a medical doctor to sign off on his travel with the team, this was the first time he had done so since coming back from deployment. His performance here would have a direct bearing on whether or not he would ever be considered fit for field work again.

By the time end of the third day, Spencer could no longer ignore the fact that he was in pain. He limped into his hotel room, dropping his bags and coat as he made his way to the bed, he sat down as quickly as possible. Hissing in pain, he leaned back on the bed, unbuckled his belt and wiggled his pants down to his knees. He gently removed his prosthesis, sighing in relief as it slipped from his leg. He had been trying to hide the pain, covering it up by spreading the geo-profile maps across the table instead of the wall so that he could work while sitting down but he couldn't take it anymore. His left leg was throbbing and his right leg, hip, and lower back were all sore from the resulting overcompensation. As he removed the sock, he was not surprised to see that his leg was red and irritated in several places. There was no way that he was going to be able to wear his leg the next day without hurting himself more. He would need to stay off of it for a day or so to let his skin heal up.

He groaned in frustration. He saw his wheelchair, sitting next to his bed so innocently, but he really didn't want to use it the next day. When the case had come up, he had been optimistic that he could make it through without having to use it, but luck was NOT on his side.

Spencer flopped backwards on the bed, lost in thought. He didn't even hear the snick of the door lock disengaging or the door itself swinging open to let Derek into the room. "Hey Pretty Boy, you doing ok? You rushed out of the station pretty quickly there."

"Morgan!" Spencer yelped in surprise. He tried to spring up to standing but between his pants that were tangled between his right leg and his prosthesis he wound up falling back to the bed in an ungraceful heap. "Ouch," he muttered more in frustration than pain.

"You ok there, Reid?" Derek said rushing to his side.

Spencer waved him off, "Fine, fine. I'm fine, just a little tangled up here."

"Are you sure? You seemed kind of out of it even before we left the station," Derek pressed.

"I'm fine," Spencer said, glaring at his pants. The garment seemed determined to thwart him at every turn; he couldn't get them off with his shoes on, but they were tangled with his prosthesis which prevented him from reaching down to untie his right shoe and slide the pants off. "Ugh, ok, sure, I could use a hand. Can you please untie my shoe?"

"Sure thing, Cinderella," Derek smirked as he knelt down to help remove the offending footwear. Once that was done, the trousers were easily removed causing Spencer to sigh in relief.

"You do not know how good that feels," Spencer practically moaned as he stretched out across the bed, now unencumbered by the offending article of clothing.

"Careful there, I think Hotch is in the room next door and these walls are pretty thin. Don't want Hotch getting the wrong idea about what's happening in here," Derek joked.

"Whatever. He can deal with whatever jealous feelings he has got. Right now, this feels better than sex," Spencer said, using his foot to nudge the leg resting against the side of the bed. "That thing is heavy, hot, and starts to hurt after a while."

Derek just shook his head and laughed as he made his way into the bathroom to get ready for the night.

BT

"Are you almost ready, Reid? We need to get moving if we want to get something to eat before getting to the station," Derek said knocking on the bathroom door.

"I'm coming," came the muffled reply. "Just give me a second."

True to his word, a few moments later the door to the bathroom opened and Spencer wheeled himself out and towards the bed where his jacket and bag were waiting.

"Whoa, there. Aren't you forgetting something, Reid?" he questioned, motioning towards the leg sitting innocently next to the bed.

Sighing, Spencer replied, "No, I'm not forgetting anything. My leg is killing me after the past couple of days. It would not be a smart idea to wear the prosthesis today."

Derek nodded in understanding, "I hear you. Let me know if you need any help today. After the way that they have been treating us the past couple of days, I think that you showing up in a wheelchair is going to go over about as well as a lead balloon."

"I know. I am not looking forward to this, but I'd rather deal with that than hurting myself physically," Spencer shrugged. "There really is nothing I can do at this point."

BT

The drive back to the hotel later that evening was miserable, to say the least. Despite the case having been resolved as successfully as any of their cases can be, tensions had only risen as the day wore on. The success of the BAU team in identifying and catching the UNSUB had seemed to fuel the ire of the locals. Their comments had gone from casual discrimination against the members of the FBI team at their arrival to outright bitterness and harassment, with Spencer bearing the brunt of the vitriol.

Derek, JJ, and Tara were concerned about the fourth passenger in the SUV, Spencer. He was obviously incredibly upset, staring silently out of the window while his hands fidgeted anxiously in his lap. Aaron and Rossi had stayed behind at the station to complete some of the paperwork regarding the different jurisdictions involved in the case, but had planned to meet with everyone as soon as possible in order to leave this town quickly.

As soon as the SUV had been put into park, Spencer was working the handle, trying to get out. Door open, he jumped down and braced himself against the vehicle as he hopped towards the back. In what could only be deemed a panicked rush, he ripped open the hatch and pulled his wheelchair down, opening it in a single and surprisingly fluid action. Slamming the hatch, he sat down and started to race towards the hotel entrance.

The slamming of the trunk spurred the other agents into action. They quickly moved from the car to follow after their friend and teammate. Even with his headstart, they easily caught up with him. The glare he leveled at them halted any conversation as they made their way through the lobby and towards the rooms. In silent agreement, they let Spencer lead the way. As he didn't object, all of them entered the room that he had been sharing with Derek during the case.

When Tara, the last one to enter, shut the door behind her, Spencer turned sharply to glare at his friends. "What? Why can't you all just leave me alone?"

"Spence," JJ started. "You are obviously upset. We are worried about you."

"Worried about me? Why? Because I'm incapable of handling myself? Or, or are you too worried that I might try and shoot up? Or maybe, maybe you are all thinking the same things that I've been hearing all day: I'm just a cripple. I'm the equal opportunity, diversity hire, I shouldn't even be here. What can a freak with a missing leg add to the case? Easier access to the UNSUBs through handicap parking?"

"You don't really believe that bullshit do you, Reid?" Derek said taking a step towards Spencer. "Those assholes don't know the first thing about you or what you are capable of doing."

"What I'm capable of doing? Would that be slowing the team down? Dragging you away from important work to babysit me at the station? Taking up an important spot that could be filled by someone who could actually be productive in the field…"

"Again, I'm calling bullshit on that, Reid. You practically solved this case single-handedly. Without your geographical profile and the fact that you were able to see the connection between the local rec center and receipts from the coffee shop down the street from the dump site," Derek interrupted.

"Contributions that any one of you could have done had Hotch assigned you those tasks. Or I could have done it from back at Quantico letting you bring a real field agent here to help with the arrest."

"And what about when you were speaking with the final victim? You were the only one who was able to get her to calm down. The paramedic was ready to drug her just to get her to calm down. Without you, she would have been given a sedative that could have killed her since she had lost her medical alert bracelet. YOU were responsible for that and it was absolutely not something that could have been done from Quantico or by anyone else on the team." Tara piped up from the other side of the room.

Spencer looked hard at the expressions of his friends. His gaze boring into them, looking for any microexpression that would be contrary to their words. No matter how hard he looked though, he couldn't find any. All he saw on their faces was sincerity. They truly believed that he was still a viable member of the team. They didn't seem to care about his injury or the fact that so far he hadn't been working as a full field agent. When he had started at the office after his deployment, once the initial reactions had died down, no one had treated him differently. They took everything at face value, including the extra baggage that would now accompany them whenever they travelled as a team. Even now, when he was traveling for the first time, they had made him feel as though he was still their equal. They were treating him as they always had.

Could he be wrong? Could the issue not be with him but with the people he had spent the day? It went against every logical argument that he could fathom. He was the common denominator. He was all of those things that they had said, handicapped, crippled, a dead weight to the team, wasn't he? I mean, the locals had simply vocalized everything that he had thought and felt since he had started back with the BAU. Were they wrong or was he?

While Spencer was getting lost in his thoughts, his teammates were starting to get nervous. They had seen him pause and retreat into his thoughts many times before on cases. It was rare though that it happened outside of a case and in relation to himself. After a few more moments of Spencer sitting there, brow furrowed in deep thought, he spoke up again."You, you all really mean it don't you?"

"Finally! He sees the light! Of course we mean it, Reid," Derek practically shouted.

"What he said," Tara smirked.

"How could you ever doubt us, Spence?" JJ agreed.

"I...uh...well, it's just. I don't know. I think I doubt myself more than you," Spencer admitted. "But, I still need some time to think. Please? Just give me some time?"

"We will meet you in the lobby," Morgan said being patently oblivious but still ushering the team from the room. It was his way of reminding Spencer that he could have all the time and space he needed but that they were still there for and with him.


	45. Chapter 45

Personal Life

Spencer woke with a start, heart pounding, sweat pooling along his skin, and a scream caught in his throat. He looked around the dark room, wide eyes seeing without processing the information. When his gaze fell to the form sleeping next to him, he was finally able to draw in a shaky breath. "Aaron," he breathed on his exhale. It was Aaron, his husband. There was no smoke, no dust, just Aaron. He was home. He was safe. There was no way in hell he was getting back to sleep tonight.

Slowly and carefully so as not to wake Aaron, he slid into his wheelchair and withdrew to the kitchen. Entering the room, he started gathering what he needed to make hot chocolate. Even if he wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep, the sweet drink would hopefully calm him down enough that he could relax and read a book until it was morning. With quiet efficiency, he grabbed the milk from the refrigerator, a pan from the cupboard, and the cocoa from the counter.

"Papa?"

The quiet question spooked the already unsettled Spencer. He swore under his breath as he steadied the pan of milk he had almost spilt. "Jack, what are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep," he said simply. "Are you making hot chocolate? Can I have some too?"

"Of course," Spencer said gently as he snagged a second mug off the tree by the coffee maker. "I was going to put marshmallows in mine. You don't want any of those, do you?"

Jack's eyes lit up in excitement. "Please! I love marshmallows. Do we have any of the little ones? They taste better than the big ones."

"Why don't you look in the pantry while I finish making the hot chocolate?"

The young boy jumped to search for his preferred marshmallows. Spencer grinned slightly, spending time with Jack always cheered him up. Perhaps sleep wasn't going to be as far fetched an idea as he had thought. At the very least, he could focus on getting Jack back in bed after their cocoa was complete.

"I found them!" came the triumphant cry from the pantry.

A few minutes later and both Spencer and Jack were settled at the table, cradling steaming mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows. The cozy and relaxed atmosphere of the moment was at odds with the expression on Jack's face. It was unusual for him to wake up during the night and he didn't seem to be scared as though it had been a nightmare that had woken him.

"Why are you having trouble sleeping, Buddy?"

The frown on Jack's face deepened. "It's nothing."

"Jack?"

With a melodramatic sigh that Spencer didn't think would make an entrance until Jack had reached his teen years, the boy started talking. "Remember how you dropped me off at school yesterday? And you had to come in to talk to Miss Green about something? Well, some of the kids in my class saw you and started asking questions. They wanted to know who you were. When I told them you were my Papa and married to my Dad they started making fun of you. They were calling you and Dad names. They also started calling you names because you are in a wheelchair. I...I tried to tell Mr. Winston who was watching us on the playground at the time but he just laughed it off and said that you probably deserved whatever happened to you for being a faggot."

He paused to take a sip of his beverage, looking back up at Spencer with eyes wide and a marshmallow mustache. "I don't like when people make fun of you though. You are my Papa. You didn't do anything wrong, you were protecting us from the bad guys when you got hurt."

"Oh, Jack," Spencer said, his heart breaking at what had happened. He didn't care what people thought about his relationship with Aaron. He knew that there were many people who were still hesitant and downright antagonistic towards gay couples. Regardless, teachers had a responsibility to stop bullying and not participate in it themselves!

"It's ok though. I told Miss Green later and she got mad at the kids and Mr. Winston."

"I'm sorry that the kids were saying such mean things and bullying you. I'm even more proud though that you did the right thing, even if Mr. Winston let you down. Thank you for standing up for your Dad and me," Spencer said, voice catching with emotion.

"I love you, Papa. You make Dad happy and help me with my homework. I missed you lots while you were gone."

"I missed you too, Jack. Every single day that I was gone. You don't know how happy I am that I am back home with you."

Jack nodded sagely, "I know. Dad got really upset when he found out you were hurt. He tried to keep it from me, but I could tell he was upset. Then he told me that he had to go and visit you so I was going to stay with Aunt Jessica until you got better. I'm still mad he didn't take me. Didn't you want to see me?"

"Of course I wanted to see you! I just didn't want to scare you. When I first got hurt, I was really angry and upset. I said some things to your Dad and other people. I was in a lot of pain and some of the machines and equipment that was helping me was pretty intense. Your Dad and I agreed that it would be better to wait until I was a little bit healthier so that you wouldn't worry." Spencer grimaced slightly. "I guess that didn't work so well, did it?"

"Nope!" Jack responded. "I'm glad you are home though. I'm sorry about your leg."

"I'm glad to be home, Jack. Trust me that I'm glad to be home. I would much rather have gotten hurt like this than to have not come home." A shudder tore through Spencer's frame as he momentarily got lost in the nightmare that had woken him earlier. "I would have gladly given anything to make it home to you and your Dad. That the price was my leg was one I would gladly pay again."

Whatever Jack was going to respond was lost to the giant yawn that he could not contain.

Smothering his giggle at the young boy, "I think it's time for someone to head back to bed. Come on, I'll even give you a ride."

Jack looked as though he was going to argue the comment about going back to sleep until Spencer mentioned getting a ride. With surprising speed for how tired he was, he jumped into Spencer's lap, pulling him into a deep and drowsy hug. "Thank you, Papa."

The two left the kitchen, Spencer noting to himself that he was going to need to clean up the mugs and pan in the morning. It was slow going, Jack was a lot bigger than Spencer remembered and it made moving difficult. By the time they reached the boy's bedroom, Jack was almost completely asleep in Spencer's arms. With a bit of awkward shuffling, he was transferred to the bed and immediately curled around his stuffed animal.

Leaning over to place a kiss on Jack's forehead, Spencer was rewarded with a sleepy smile. "Love you, Papa."

"I love you too, Jack."


	46. Chapter 46

Battalion Life

"You don't have to do this," Aaron said watching Spencer begin to lay out his clothing for the day.

"Yes, I do. What's that saying about getting back on the horse, Aaron? This is my horse," Spencer said, still distracted by the uniform items he had spread across the foot of the bed.

Sitting up higher in the bed, Aaron tried again. "This isn't about getting back on a horse, Spencer, this is about making the logical decision to accept the medical retirement from the Navy."

Spencer was giggling as he looked up at his husband, "Have we actually reached the point where you are being the logical one? I know that staying in the Navy isn't the logical decision but it is the one I'm making."

"But why, Spencer? Haven't you given enough?"

The shrug was so small as to almost be missed. "Maybe I have and maybe I haven't. I just know that whereas before I joined I couldn't imagine any alternate universe in which I would ever serve in the military. Now that I've been doing it for so long, I can't imagine my life without it. This is a part of me. I've already lost enough to that fucking IED, I'm not losing this too. I won't let it take anything more away from me," his voice began to crack slightly. "I can't lose anything else."

Aaron didn't know how to reply. Selfishly, he wanted Spencer out of the Navy. Moreover, he never wanted to let his husband out of sight again. At least at the Bureau Aaron knew that Spencer was either safe at Quantico or out in the field with him. When he went off to play Navy, he wasn't there to protect him nor did he know or trust enough of those that were with him to keep Spencer safe. It was silly, very silly. Spencer was a fully capable adult. He didn't need protection but that didn't stop the irrational feelings that bloomed in Aaron's chest when Spencer put on his uniform.

Despite the selfish thoughts, he was honestly trying to look at it from Spencer's point of view. The Navy had become a very large part of his life. Because he had done such an admirable job compartmentalizing his life, very few in the Bureau knew exactly how involved Spencer was in the military. He spent seemingly countless days supporting the Navy. Each year he would use his annual leave to support his unit in exercises and training. When not actively on orders, Spencer would spend time writing reports, planning training, and doing the mountain of paperwork that was associated with leading sailors. Were it not for his incredible capacity to complete paperwork, there is no way that he would be able to handle what amounted to a second full-time job.

Beyond the time invested in the Navy, there were other, more important signs that pointed directly to how it had become integral to Spencer's life. Seemingly little things such as the way that he had gotten more confident in speaking up on cases; he no longer let the local LEOs intimidate him into silence. He thought outside of the box far more often and with better results, taking risks and owning his decisions. Frankly he held himself with more pride and confidence than could be attributed to simple maturity.

Spencer was who he was today because of his service. Could Aaron really ask him to give that up if he wasn't ready to do so on his own? There really was only one answer to that.

"Where is your kit with all of your ribbons? If you are going to be checking into a new command today then you need to make sure that you have everything in order."

Spencer's grateful smile was proof that Aaron had gotten the answer right.

BT

"You can do this. You can do this," he muttered to himself. "Remember what your therapist said. Remember what Aaron said. If this is what you want, you can do this. You are still the same person you were. You can still do this."

As confident as he had felt at home that morning getting ready, Spencer was even more terrified sitting in his car at the NOSC. This was his first time back to regular reserve duties since returning from deployment. Had he been going back to NMCB 23, he would have been nervous but excited to see his friends again. Sadly, the Battalion had decommissioned, everyone scattering to the winds. Adam had indeed gotten orders to a cushy unit, NATO to be exact, and was currently enjoying getting to do his annual training jet setting around Europe. Most of the others with whom he was friendly had been split up between NMCB 27 and NMCB 14, both battalions which were moving to Gulfport, MS. A handful of Seabees and CEC officers had even found their way to Norfolk, VA based units like CBMU 202 and ACB-2. He had somehow come out the otherside with a billet at a local NAVFAC unit here in DC. Which is what brought him to his current dilemma. He was sitting in his car, terrified to get out and check in to the new command because he didn't know a single person there.

Screwing up all the courage he could manage, Spencer opened the door and with as much grace as he could muster, he stood up and began walking to the building.

BT

"You can do this. You can do this," he muttered to himself in a mockery of his actions earlier that day. He thought that it would be difficult to be the new guy at the command. As it turns out, no one paid more than a passing glance at him. They noted the LT bars on his collar and promptly ignored him. This was a command that was very top heavy with many senior officers and very few junior officers and even fewer enlisted. As a result, the junior officers were simply used as interchangeable labor.

What Spencer had not anticipated during his check in was that the unit would be doing the semi-annual Physical Fitness Assessment (PFA) this weekend. Despite having a waiver for all portions of the Physical Readiness Test (PRT) due to his recent injury, he was still required to weigh in for the BCA (body composition analysis) portion of the PFA. This is why he was now sitting in his car wearing the t-shirt and shorts of his PT uniform. He looked down to his lap where to see where the navy blue shorts ended, showing off the creamy paleness of his right thigh and the muted black and silver cover of his left. There was absolutely no way to hide his prosthetic in this outfit. Whereas he was virtually ignored earlier, he was quite likely to be the focus of many conversations following the weigh ins.

Slowly, with ever increasing dread, he opened the car door and stood. From his parking space he could already see the members of his new unit congregating by several tables and scales set up next to the bleachers at the field. Everyone was looking anxious to just get this over with so that they could leave for the day. The harried fitness leaders who were running the weigh ins were surrounded by stacks of paper, tape measures, and the odd rock or two, ostensibly to weigh down the stacks of paper.

Spencer was effectively ignored as he stood off to the side, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to hide amongst the bleachers. When the fitness leaders finally called everyone to stand in line, he moved slowly, trying to get a place at the end of the line. He was starting to relax, no one paying attention to him until he got to the front of the line.

"Uh, how do you want me to do this?" He asked quietly to the sailor waiting at the scale.

The sailor, frazzled from the event already, was not paying attention to the person in front of her. "Sir, just step on the scale, turning around so that we can get your height and weight," she said started. "Just like every other time you have done this."

"I don't think this is like every other time," Spencer continued softly. He waited until the sailor looked up from her clipboard before directing his gaze down to his left leg.

"Shit," she mumbled. "Oh my goodness, I'm sorry, Sir!" She immediately shifted her gaze back to the clipboard. After a pause, she started looking around, trying to find one of the other fitness leaders. "Umm.. Sir? Do I weigh you with it on or off? I've, well, to be honest, I've never run into this issue," the young petty officer stammered. Her expression was growing more frantic as she tried to avoid eye contact with Spencer, find someone to help her, AND avoid staring at his leg.

Unable to fight the flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck, Spencer quietly replied. "I don't know. I haven't found anything in an instruction that says one way or the other. I think it would be easier to just weigh in with it on. I don't think I'm in danger of failing either way."

"Right, ok. That works, I guess. Um, can you step up here? Do you need help?"

Even though Spencer understood that she had innocent intentions, he suggestion that he was incapable of stepping onto the scale unassisted grated at his nerves. "I can do it," he snapped. He stepped up, turning around to allow her to measure his height and weight simultaneously. As she wrote down the numbers, Spencer mentally calculated that he was correct, he was still within weight standards. He breathed a sigh of relief. Even though he would easily be able to pass by measurements too, it was easier to just pass the weigh in and not worry about whether or not he should be weight with this leg on or off.

"Sir, um, will you be doing the PRT tomorrow?"

Her question broke Spencer out of this thoughts, "No, I'm not cleared. I've done my PARF-Q and have medical waivers for the time being."

She nodded quickly and returned to shuffling papers, again trying to avoid making eye contact as he stepped off the scale. Looking around, he noticed that very few people were left in the area. No one even seemed to be paying attention to them. Not wanting to question his good fortune, he stepped off the scale and hurried to his car. Once safely ensconced in the driver's seat, he let himself relax.

Perhaps one day he wouldn't be afraid or ashamed of what had happened. He knew he needed to grow more comfortable with people staring and asking questions. Intellectually he knew that it was going to happen, after all, it wasn't every day that someone encountered an amputee. Frankly, he preferred questions over staring but knew that he was going to encounter both, regularly. It was still unsettling though, especially coming from his peers. He knew he shouldn't but he felt judged here. Among these men and women, any one of whom could have been in his shoes that day, he felt like he was being judged. His missing leg was a sure sign of a failure on his part. If he got hurt, how badly had he hurt his Seabees? Very badly if one considered the loss of life.

It wouldn't do to start going down that rabbit hole of thoughts. There will be a day when it hurts less to think about these things. There will be day when he has found peace with what has happened and the changes that have been wrought in his life. There will be that day even if that day isn't today. It is enough that today was the day that he came back.


	47. Chapter 47

BAU Life

"Come on, Boss. I know you don't want to call in the Feds, but you and I both know that they can help," NCIS Special Agent Tony DiNozzo pleaded with his team leader and boss, Special Agent Jethro Gibbs.

The need for help centered around the case the team was currently investigating. It had started without any particular fanfare, the bodies of two men had been found in an alley. While Metro PD had been initially called in to handle the case, identification of the victims found that one had been a USMC veteran and the other was still an active duty Marine. Metro was more than happy to call in Gibbs and his team to work the case. Unfortunately, it had become pretty clear that the active duty Marine was nothing more than collateral damage. The Lance Corporal had been killed as part of the killing of a homeless man, the 5th to be bludgeoned to death within an 8 block radius in the last 4 weeks.

Prior to these most recent bodies, Metro PD had been on the verge of calling in the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit for assistance with what they had realized was a serial killer. Being forced to call NCIS had delayed Metro's lead detective from making the call to the FBI. Despite it being determined that the Marine was not the intended target, everyone on the case was looking to Gibbs as the most senior investigator on the case to make the decision as to whether or not to get the FBI involved. What had seemed a straightforward serial killer to Metro PD last week turning into a jurisdictional nightmare of a case this week.

With surprisingly little grumbling and argument, Gibbs gave a quick nod of his head. "McGee, get on the horn and get that team out here. We can focus on the Corporal and they can worry about the serial aspect."

That proclamation caused an almost audible sigh of relief from the entire assembly. Special Agent Timothy McGee's quick "I'm on it, Boss!" was thrown over his shoulder as he was already walking away to make the phone call.

BT

Hotch looked at the team assembled in the conference room. It was obvious that the team had been through some rough patches. Everyone seemed to be falling into a rhythm though. Tara was settling into the team. Spencer was not yet cleared for field work with the team but as the case was local, he would not be restricted to the offices as he was when he travelled with the team.. On the one hand, Hotch was thrilled as it would be a good chance to ease Reid back into the role of field agent. On the other hand, it seemed like this case had the potential to be difficult for him given that it was going to be a joint task force with NCIS. Hotch sighed, this was not how he wanted to re-introduce Reid to the field, but when did anything go the way he wanted it to go?

"We have a case and it is local. Garcia?"

"Thank you, Bossman. Ok, my lovelies. As usual, this case is one of yuckiness. Over the past 3 weeks, 6 men have been found with their throats slit and posed in alleys around Washington DC. The first 4 victims were all homeless and found close to their usual stomping grounds. The 5th and 6th victims were found this morning by Metro PD. Victim number 5 was also homeless but victim 6 was an active duty Marine. When this was discovered, Metro called in NCIS, which is the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, to look into the murder of the Marine. Someone decided to call us in as it is now obvious that this is a serial killer." Garcia explained as she flipped quickly through photos. "All of this is available on your tablets and on paper for you, my Genius."

"It is going to be all hands on deck. Garcia, you can remain here if you wish or head over to the Navy Yard and get set up with their forensic technician. Everyone else, including you Reid, will be working out of Metro's headquarters. Questions? Ok, let's go."

BT

Police headquarters in large metropolitan areas were rarely quiet and the home of DC Metro was no exception. The BAU team hurried into the bustling station, following the vague gestures of a harried office worker who pointed them in the direction of the conference rooms after being asked.

They were an imposing group as they descended on the conference room where the NCIS team had set up a temporary camp with the police department.

"Where's Fornell? I was expecting my favorite Feebie to try to come and take over this case," Tony said after giving a cursory glance at the agents.

"The request was made for the BAU to assist on this case and SSA Fornell is not a member of our team. Despite his strong ties and history with the NCIS MCRT, he will not be participating on behalf of the FBI," Hotch gave the curt response.

"Well damn, there goes my fun," Tony grumbled.

BT

"Boss, we have to send someone in," Tony said. "We don't have a choice."

Glaring at the photos and documents pinned to the board, Gibbs knew that his senior field agent was right. This was not the kind of case that would be easy to establish an undercover identity though, there needed to be a believable backstory and history to the identity. This was going to be difficult and had the potential to require significant effort for more than just a day or so. While he never enjoyed sending one of his agents undercover, they were running out of options. Gibbs nodded. "DiNozzo, go back to the yard and get set up with Abby. Where are we with the VA records, McGee?"

"Um, Special Agent Gibbs, Sir? I don't think that Tony is the right person to send undercover on this assignment," Spencer said hesitantly from where he was seated while working on the jeopardy surface.

Both Gibbs and Tony looked at Spencer in surprise. Over the last few days, Spencer had been quietly engaged in the conference room focusing on the geographic profile. He had taken charge of keeping files and boards updated and organizing all of the historical data that had been sent from the local VAs in paper form. During all of this, he had been so reserved and efficient that the other agents had all but forgotten he was in the room. "Don't worry about it, I've got plenty of experience in undercover work. I'll be fine," Tony replied.

Spencer shook his head and set down the markers he had been using. "I am sure you are a very capable agent when it comes to undercover work. You don't fit the profile of the victims and will stick out like a sore thumb. Your presence will likely scare the UNSUB away and at this point, we can't afford that."

"Well, it is either me or Gibbs and he doesn't like going under. Come on, I'm about as close as it gets to the victim profile here. Undercover work like this isn't part of your playbook, Feebie." Tony was starting to get excited at the prospect of undercover work again. It had been a long time since he had gotten to get out and play, testing his skills in the field; that the nerdy FBI agent was second guessing him before the operation started was grating on his nerves.

"Actually, we do go undercover when necessary though we take it as a last resort. We also have someone who fits the profile more closely. I'll take care of the paperwork, Reid," Aaron said as he walked into the room, his gaze never leaving Spencer. He had caught the end of the discussion between the men. To Aaron, it was obvious what Spencer was thinking and even if Aaron didn't like it, he knew that Spencer was right.

"Explain," Gibbs said looking at Aaron.

Aaron looked towards Spencer who spoke up instead, "All of our victims have been Caucasian males, homeless. They have also all been veterans who were disabled. While the average age of the victim is approximately 58, the youngest victim thus far was former Sergeant White at the age of 29. Tox screens show that all of the victims were drug addicts, likely a result of the injuries they sustained during their service and subsequent pain management attempts."

"And?" Gibbs prodded.

"And I'm a disabled veteran and recovering drug addict," he finished quietly.

Tony was the first to break the awkward silence, "Out of the entire team I never would have pegged you as meeting the victims' profile. What was your drug of choice, Ritalin to keep studying?"

"Dilaudid was my main drug of choice but I wasn't always very picky when I needed a hit," Spencer said sharply, glaring at the agent.

Spencer's statement was punctuated by a slap to the back of Tony's head, thoughtfully administered by Gibbs. Finished with that, he looked towards Spencer with an unreadable look on his face. "Service?"

"Navy, Operation Enduring Freedom, Iraq, got back early about 9 months ago," he responded succinctly.

Gibbs nodded. "Ever been undercover?"

"Nothing extensive but enough to know what to do and what not to do," he said shaking his head.

During this interaction, Tony was rubbing the back of his head and trying to follow the conversation. There was more being said than the words would indicate and he couldn't follow the unspoken discussion. He was smart enough though to see that Gibbs was on board with the FBI's decision to send one of their own undercover. He still didn't think that the kid looked like he could handle himself undercover as well as he could. Tony shook his head, he didn't want to see this operation go up in flames but that is where it was headed.

"DiNozzo, take Reid here to Abby to get outfitted for the operation. Give him a crash course in undercover work on the drive."

"You got it, Boss. Coming, Doc?"

BT

The drive to the Navy Yard was awkward in the extreme. Spencer was perfectly content to sit and listen to Tony ramble on about undercover operations. Tony was still feeling put out by getting pulled from the operation and was being rather short with Spencer in his instructions and advice. He was also taking every opportunity to talk about how things can go pear-shaped in hopes of frightening the young man off of the mission. Spencer took it in stride, simply ignoring the tone and insinuations and asking pertinent questions. By the time the two men got to NCIS headquarters, Tony was beyond frazzled and ready to blow while Spencer appeared perfectly calm.

"Look, Reid, I get it, you did some sort of FBI voodoo and got Gibbs to agree to send you under, but I don't think that you know what you are getting yourself into. Hell, no one is even going to believe that you were ever in the military. You look more like some sort of Mr. Rogers than Rambo. Maybe with enough costuming we can make you look like a junkie, but a vet? Not gonna happen," Tony ranted as they were waiting in Abby's lab for the scientist to come back from sourcing costume pieces.

"Did you know that contrary to urban legend, Fred Rogers of Mr. Rogers fame never actually served in the military?" Spencer responded mildly.

Tony snorted, "Sure, but he would still be more convincing than you are going to be at this."

Finally fed up with Tony's complaints and snide remarks, Spencer turned to the NCIS agent and said in a low, hard voice, "Special Agent DiNozzo, I would thank you to keep your mouth shut when you do not know what you are talking about. I will have absolutely no problems passing myself off as a potential victim for this UNSUB. Whether you choose to open your eyes or not is entirely up to you. While I defer to your experience in undercover operations, I am the subject matter expert here on the victimology and the profile of the UNSUB. So sit there and shut up if you have nothing more productive to add."

With a final glare at the stunned agent, Spencer moved to shift his gaze from DiNozzo to the lab entrance to wait for Abby only to find himself face to face with the forensic scientist.

"I would be applauding that if my hands weren't full!" she gushed rushing to drop the items on the table. "That was amazing! Tony, why are you picking on him? Don't you know who he is? Dr. Reid, it is an honor to meet you! I have been following your work for years. You are amazing! Are you the one that's going undercover? I thought it was going to be Tony? Oh! I don't know if what I pulled is going to fit you. I might need to go back…."

"Ms. Sciuto, the pleasure is all mine. I have been following your work for quite some time as well. I would love to discuss your thoughts on the most recent article on The Chemical Decomposition of Accelerants in Tropical and Subtropical Environments. Unfortunately, we will need to take that up another day. I heard that you would be the one outfitting me for this mission?"

Pig-tails bouncing wildly, Abby nodded. "Yup! I'm your woman for this. What do you need? Like I said, I thought Tony would be the one going undercover so I pulled stuff for him."

"Plans changed," Spencer said as he looked at the items spread across the table. He mentally catalogued the various shirts, jackets, and pants in varying uniform prints and stages of wear, tear, and cleanliness. "I think I can find something here that will work. Um, there is one thing though. Do you have a wheelchair? One of the standard, bulky, ones would be best. The cheaper and older the better for a number of reasons."

"I think I know where I can get one of those," she said nodding.

"What do you need that for? Won't it get in the way?" Tony asked curious as he had not considered that to be necessary when he had been planning his own participation in the operation.

Spencer didn't even look up from where he was sorting the clothing, "It won't be a significant hindrance and will actually help to hide my gun and comm devices. Besides, it will be much more believable than crutches for the extended periods of time that I will be undercover. Using it will give me more mobility too. I would use my own but I don't think that it would be convincing for a homeless guy to use that particular kind."

"You have your own wheelchair? Why?"

Spencer stopped rifling through the clothing to stare at Tony. Right as Tony was getting uncomfortable under the calculating gaze of the other agent, Spencer started laughing. "You mean, you...you didn't notice? How did you miss that? DiNozzo, this is fake," he said pulling up the hem of his pants on his left leg to show the metal of the prosthetic leg. "I lost my leg to an IED while deployed to Iraq last year. Now do you understand why I can pull off the disabled vet better than you?"

"Oh."

"Yes, 'oh.' Now, let's get back to business. We have a lot of details to work out before I hit the streets," Spencer said as they all refocused on the task at hand.

BT

"So when is your boy wonder going to be getting undercover?" Det. Wilson questioned Aaron as they drove towards the most recent crime scene. "I thought he was going under to stop these attacks and instead of a lead on a suspect we have another body."

"SSA Dr. Reid is already undercover and has been since yesterday morning. He was inserted several blocks away from the previous scene. It will likely take another day or so for him to be even marginally integrated into the community enough to begin obtaining information," was the calm reply.

"I still don't see how that kid is going to pull this off. We should have sent in that NCIS agent, DiNozzo, I've worked with him before and he knows how to do undercover," the detective continued to complain.

Aaron didn't respond to this at all, choosing instead to focus on the steady beat of the wipers against the windshield. It was a cold and rainy day. Even though Aaron knew that Spencer was as prepared as he could be for weather like this, he hated the thought of his husband outside in the cold all day. He just hoped that Spencer would have the foresight to go to the soup kitchen: it would provide him with warmth and safety while also, hopefully, strengthening his cover story. He did want to shut up the complaining detective though and he knew there was really only one way to do it.

Thanks to one-touch dialing on his cell phone, Garcia was answering the phone almost immediately. "You have reached the office of all knowing, speak and be heard," she chirped.

"Garcia, I need coordinates for Reid's location," he said.

"...And sent to your car's GPS. Anything else, Bossman?"

"Not now, thank you, Garcia," Aaron said.

"Toodles!"

Det Wilson gave Aaron an odd look as he adjusted his course to take him to the coordinates now programmed into the GPS. "Who was that?"

Aaron smiled, his entire face softening at the thought of Garcia, "That was our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. You will not find anyone better than her, anywhere."

The bubbly voice and casual language fresh in his mind, the detective remained unconvinced despite, "If you say so."

Aaron continued driving, noting that the tracking device indicated that Spencer was in fact at one of the local soup kitchens. This would actually work well in showing how well Spencer was doing in fitting the profile and integrating into the community.

Despite the cold, wet weather, there were not very many people in the seating area of the soup kitchen. A few small groups of men and women were clustered near the heating vents and several others were seated alone across the hall. As soon as Det. Wilson and Hotch entered the building, a young woman stepped up and introduced herself as the director. After explaining that they were looking into the case involving the recent deaths of people in the neighborhood. Only after multiple reassurances that they were not there to accuse any of the people but rather to seek information and work to prevent anyone else from becoming a victim did she relent and agree to let them speak with the people who were there.

Det. Wilson's gaze swept across the room. On a first glance, none of the people in the room looked familiar. He was starting to wonder just what the FBI agent was up to as they approached the first group of people.

Hotch led the way towards a group of 3 adults, all looking apprehensive as the two men who were clearly law enforcement approached them. "Good afternoon, I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner and this is Detective Wilson. I was wondering if you would mind speaking to us about a case that we are working on. We are hoping that you might have seen or heard something or someone that could provide insight in helping to catch a murderer."

"Hey now! I haven't done anything wrong! You can't arrest me!" one of the men yelled.

"Sir, I'm not here to arrest you or anyone else. I just want to know if you have seen anyone suspicious here recently. There have been several individuals who have been killed in this neighborhood and we are looking for any information we can," Hotch tried to placate the man.

"I ain't talking. You can't make me," was the stubborn response. "Come on, let's get outta here before they throw us in jail." With that, the man tugged on the arms of his companions and with an apologetic glance by the others, all of them stood and left the area.

"That went well. What are you trying to prove, Agent?" Det Wilson asked as he watched their retreating backs.

"I'm just trying to gather information, Detective. Let's try that gentleman over there," Hotch said as he nodded in the direction of a younger man in a wheelchair nursing a cup of coffee by one of the radiators.

"Fine, let me try," Wilson said pushing forward.

"Excuse me, Sir? I'm Detective Wilson and this is SSA Hotchner. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?"

The young man looked up from his coffee when the detective spoke. Large hazel eyes looked curiously between the two men. "Sure, I don't mind. I don't think I can help you though."

"You don't know that, you might be surprised at how helpful even the smallest details can be," Hotch said with an encouraging smile. "May we sit down?"

The young man nodded, long hair falling to cover his face. "It's only fair, I can't exactly stand up so you might as well sit down. Now, how can I help?"

"Well, we could begin with your name," Hotch said.

"Just call me Adam," the man replied.

"Adam, thank you. Please, call me Hotch. Are you from the area? Have you been here long?"

For the next few minutes the three men sat there talking. Hotch and Wilson asking questions and Adam replying. As it turns out, he was relatively new to the area and truly hadn't seen anything. After a bit, it became obvious that something was wrong with Adam. His hands had started to tremble slightly and he had grown slightly antsy and uncomfortable. Before long, he made a quick excuse and left the men sitting at the table.

"He's a junkie. I wouldn't trust what he was saying," Wilson said after the man had left earshot.

"Oh? What gives you that impression?" Hotch asked innocently.

Wilson snorted, "I thought you were the profiler. You had to have seen how his hands started to shake and how jumpy he got. He was jonesing for another hit. He is probably shooting up in the bathroom right now."

Hotch shook his head, "I doubt it. Come on, let's keep going with our canvass."

An hour and 2 cups of terrible coffee later, the two men were back in the Bureau SUV and discussing what they had learned. Despite the lack of information from the first few people with whom they had talked, they had gotten a description of someone who had been in the area on the last two nights that people were killed. They had a rough description of a man, perhaps 35 to 40, large and heavily muscled. That was more than they had prior to this and so both men were considering this a win.

As they pulled out of the parking space and began heading back to the precinct, Wilson looked over at Hotch. "Hey, it looks like your analyst was wrong. We never did run into your agent. This is why we should have sent in the other guy, at least then we would know where he is and know whether or not he's making progress."

"Oh, no, we saw Reid. He's doing just fine and making progress actually," Hotch answered smiling lightly. "Remember the young man in the wheelchair? The one you called a junkie and said he was probably shooting up? That was him."

"Well damn, I never would have guessed," Wilson said stunned. "From what I had heard of him, he sounded like the last person who would do well in undercover work."

Hotch just laughed, "Most people underestimate Dr. Reid. Trust me, we have the right man on the inside right now."

BT

The break in the case came a few days later when Garcia and Abby used the pretense of passing out blankets to the local homeless as a chance to do a data drop with Spencer. He had noticed a man watching him and several of the other men with whom he had been camping. The man had played himself off as a volunteer from one of the outreach programs. A bit of digging showed that the program didn't actually exist and the man was using it as a cover to get close to homeless men.

The military connection turned out to be a red herring; the UNSUB was simply exacting a revenge fantasy that he had against homeless drug addicts like his father. Sadly, the large number of homeless veterans in the area had skewed the odds and made it appear as though they had been targeted specifically. The UNSUB was brought in quickly, cleanly, and efficiently after Spencer had alerted his handler one evening when he noticed the man entering an alley. A few hours and a confession later, all three teams were happy to be wrapping up and putting this case behind them.

As the BAU and NCIS teams stood in the conference room, chatting while putting away files they all looked up in surprise when Garcia squealed. "Boy Wonder! You are back!"

Spencer stood in the doorway, looking freshly showered and grinning at his team. "Hey guys, need a hand?"

Tony was one of the first to approach him, "Reid, I'm breaking one of Gibbs' rules here, but I'm sorry. We really couldn't have pulled this off without you."

Spencer waved off Tony's apology and came in to help the teams pack up. As they did so, Aaron noticed that even though Spencer was acting casual and relaxed, something was bothering him. It was obvious though that he didn't want to discuss or let the other teams know what was wrong and so Aaron spurred everyone into faster action with the promise of the next day off-giving them 3 day weekend barring cases.

As the last of the file boxes were loaded into the SUVs, Aaron pulled Spencer aside to tell him that he was riding back with him. He nodded and quickly slipped into the passenger seat to wait for Aaron. Soon, they were leaving Metro PD's headquarters behind and making their way home. None of the boxes in the car were sensitive material, it could wait until the next day to be taken to Quantico.

One of the first things Spencer had done upon getting home had been to remove and clean his leg. It was now tucked into its usual corner next to the chair by the closet. He was now laying on his stomach, stretched out across the bed in nothing but his boxers. His eyes were closed but Aaron could tell that he wasn't asleep nor was he on verge of it. With quiet movements, Aaron stripped out of his work clothes and put on lounge pants and a t-shirt. He grabbed a bottle of lotion and a towel from the bathroom before coming back in to join his husband.

Kneeling on the bed by Spencer's hips, he pressed a soft kiss to his temple and then moved to straddle his hips. Warming a bit of the lotion in his hands, he started a slow and deep massage of Spencer's shoulders. The tension he could feel slowly began to melt away, soft sighs of appreciation slipping past his lips amid the groans of pain as Aaron worked on especially rigid knots. Neither man spoke but both knew that the silence wasn't going to last.

By the time that Aaron had worked his way down to Spencer's lower back, the sighs and groans had taken on a far more sexual undertone. With each confident stroke of Aaron's hands, Spencer's hips thrust a bit more into the bed below. It came as a surprise to Aaron when he heard, "Stop, please."

"Did I hurt you?" he asked pulling up from where he was sitting. He had tried to be mindful of putting his weight on sensitive areas but he had also gotten quite wrapped up in the massage himself.

A quick shake of the head, "No, you didn't hurt me. It is feeling too good and I wanted to talk before we start shagging like rabbits." Spencer wiggled a bit, "Can you get off of me so I can sit up?"

Aaron stood, wiping his hands on the towel and moving the lotion to the nightstand before sitting back on the bed and opening his arms to let Spencer curl up against him. They sat there for a few more minutes before Spencer spoke again.

"I had a harder time on this last case than I thought I would," he began. "I thought it would be hard doing the case with NCIS but that was surprisingly easy. I...Aaron, that could have easily been me."

"What do you mean?"

Spencer took a deep breath, "Intellectually I know that there is no single reason why someone becomes homeless; not everyone on the streets is an addict. There are any number of reasons that someone could end up on the street but...but this just hit so close to home because it could have been me. Did you know that there are over 60,000 homeless veterans right now? Many are suffering from injuries, including PTSD, that make it difficult or impossible to find steady employment. My cover was of a younger veteran who came out here for work and when the job fell through, wasn't able to get another one due to my injury. Having a history of drug use and acting like it just strengthened the cover."

"It scared me to realize that without you, I could have easily been on the streets. There were many times since the IED that I was tempted to just give up and fuck everything else. If I had done that I would never have made it back to the Bureau and frankly, that would have hurt me more than losing my leg. Without the BAU, I don't think I would have had the heart to find something else and VA disability alone wouldn't be enough in the DC area. Without you, I would probably be on the streets for real right now."

As he had spoken, Aaron had hugged him closer, trying to remind Spencer that he wasn't leaving him no matter what. As a result, Spencer's next words were whispered into his shoulder, "I know that if I didn't have you, I would have taken the drugs. I would not have stayed clean and I would probably be high right now. This case has been very difficult on my sobriety."

"Do you need to go the movies?"

He shook his head. "No, that was one good thing about my cover, I could and did attend a couple of meetings while I was under. They weren't my usual ones but they helped. This helps too," he said burrowing impossibly deeper into Aaron's side.

"I love you, Spencer. I will always be here for you no matter what."

"I love you too, Aaron. Maybe, maybe we can start volunteering at the soup kitchen? The one where you and Detective Wilson came to check in on me. They were doing great work there in helping those who needed it."

Aaron smiled as he kissed the top of Spencer's head, "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Let's get some sleep though. I think you need to get some rest."

Spencer reluctantly extricated himself from Aaron and made his way under the covers. He was asleep almost as soon as he laid down. Aaron carefully got out of bed, turned the lights down, and left Spencer to rest.


	48. Chapter 48

Personal Life

Spencer flopped backwards on the soft grass. He closed his eyes and let the warm sun permeate his aching muscles. In the background he could hear the laughter of the kids on the playground. He could hear music from somewhere near the basketball courts, and there was the ever present rumble of distant traffic on the busy Virginia road bordering the park. All in all, it was a quiet summer afternoon.

"Aaron, Aaron Hotchner?"

His ears perked at hearing someone calling his husband's name. Spencer pulled himself up so that he was leaning back on his elbows, his view of the parking lot and his husband completely unobstructed now. While he could no longer hear what was being said, he could now see the scene playing out in the parking lot..

From his vantage point, it looked like Aaron had finished his run and had gone back to the car for his water bottle and towel. At some point he had been cornered by a woman with short dark hair that was also dressed for running or other athletic activities. Objectively, she was an attractive woman, even Spencer could admit that. However, the cloying smile, and repeated attempts to touch Aaron were clouding Spencer's opinion of her.

Aaron was far more winded than he wanted to admit as he slowed to a light jog when he made the final curve in the trail and saw his SUV in its parking space. All he wanted at that moment was the bottle of water and the towel. Even though it was still early in the summer and the day itself, he was sweating buckets after his run. As he started fumbling with the small zippered pocket on his running shorts that housed his car key, he heard someone coming up behind him.

"Aaron, Aaron Hotchner? Why what a pleasant surprise!" a woman's voice said off to his right. His gaze shot up and encountered a vaguely familiar woman headed in his direction.

"Can I help you?"

"Surely you remember me, Aaron! It's me, Beth. We trained together for the triathlon, oh goodness that must have been 3 or 4 years ago! I can't believe how time flies," the woman, Beth, flirted.

After a moment of confusion, it finally clicked. He had met Beth here a few years before when he was training for his first triathlon. While she had been a reasonable training partner, it was clear from the start that she had ulterior motives. She desperately wanted to snag herself a husband, preferably one Aaron Hotchner.

If dealing with her blatant come ons wasn't enough, Aaron had also had to deal with Dave at the office. After hearing about her, Dave had all but planned their wedding. He had taken it as a sign from above that Aaron needed to get back out there and start dating again after Haley. What he hadn't known though was that Aaron and Spencer had been together already. It went without saying that as soon as Aaron realized the plans of both Beth and Dave, he had gone out of his way to let them both down gently.

"Beth, yes, I remember. How are you doing?" He asked politely while continuing to get his things from the car. He could see Spencer stretched out oin the grass a short distance from the parking lot and he was itching to join the young man on the grass.

"Oh, I"m doing well. It certainly looks like you have been keeping up with your training," she said without even bother to disguise her hungry gaze as she looked Aaron up and down. "Are you registered for any more triathlons?"

Aaron had to keep himself from shivering under her gaze. "No, nothing scheduled. Yourself?"

"Mm...nothing at the moment. However, if I had the right partner, I might consider it. What do you say? We worked so well together, want to have dinner and discuss the possibilities?" she all but leered at him. "For our training that is."

Taking a long gulp of water in order to buy himself some time before he said something completely offensive, the best he could come up with was "Thank you, but no."

Undeterred, Beth stepped in closer, "Well, maybe we can just chat for a few minutes now. There is a creepy man who has been watching me since I came over here. I'd love some help in showing that I have a big, strong, FBI agent on my side."

Immediately, Aaron went into agent mode, doing a scan of the surrounding area for anything and anyone that looked out of place. His initial review had nothing pinging his radar as unusual, but this also wasn't a park he frequented. "Has this man said anything to you? Done anything suspicious?"

She shook her head, "No, but he is some weird and creepy. I don't know why he is so focused on me. Ugh, he is handicapped too. Does he get off on showing his deformity to the world? He should never be let out of the house like that."

"Excuse me?" Aaron said, a sinking feeling starting to form in his gut.

"The creepy guy who has been looking at me, over there. The one missing his leg. He is wearing shorts and waving around his repulsive stump for everyone to see. It is disgusting! Doesn't he know there are children around that could be scarred for life?" she continued, not noticing the growing anger on Aaron's face. "Oh my god, he is even coming this way! Please, can you arrest him for indecent exposure or something?"

Aaron's anger had slowly been building as Beth had continued talking. There was absolutely nothing suspicious, creepy, indecent, or disgusting about Spencer. He was dressed similarly to all the other men currently working out in the park in a tank top and shorts commensurate with the sunny weather. Not only was Beth's damsel in distress act annoying and unwanted, but that she was doing it at the expense of Spencer was beyond infuriating. Before Spencer could reach the two speaking by the car, Aaron snapped at Beth.

"Get your hand off of my arm," he growled pulling away from where Beth had tried to cling in protection from the 'creepy man' coming her way. "What kind of person are you to judge others based on their physical condition? Do you automatically assume that anyone who is different than you is creepy and disgusting? Are you in favor of locking up people based solely on your perception of their physical being?"

Beth stared at Aaron in disbelief. She had been certain that he would act as her knight in shining armour and protect her from the weirdo that was headed towards them. Didn't he see how ugly and creepy the guy was? She tried to stammer out that she wasn't judging him but was simply looking out for her safety and that of those around her but by then, Spencer had come up next to them.

"Everything ok here?" Spencer asked as he slowed to a stop and popped open his water bottle, preparing to take a sip.

Spencer saw Beth recoil away from him in disgust, trying to hide behind Aaron. Aaron meanwhile, took a step toward Spencer and leaned in towards him, distracting him with a gentle kiss while pulling the water bottle of his hand. He stood straight, turned to look directly at Beth and took a long slow sip of water. "Everything is fine, Love. This is Beth. You might remember her from when I was training for my first triathlon." He gestured towards the woman who had backed up against the SUV.

"Beth? Wasn't she your training partner for a bit? Before we started training together?" Spencer asked having already reached the conclusion that he was making her uncomfortable. He wasn't sure why he was doing so, but he trusted that Aaron knew what he was doing and played along with intensifying the discomfort. He reached out his hand, "Hi, I'm Spencer, Aaron's husband."

Beth ignored the outstretched hand to angle herself towards Aaron and snap at him, "Your husband? This disgusting creep is your husband?"

"Disgusting creep?" Spencer yelped in indignation. "What did I do?"

Beth whirled around to glare at Spencer. "You have been staring at me ever since I came over to talk to Aaron. You are also parading around with that...that thing hanging out. It is indecent and disgusting! Why should we be forced to see that? Cover yourself up you pervert!"

He was taken aback at the venom in her voice as she yelled at him. "Excuse me? I haven't looked at you at all other than to see who was calling out to my husband. I've been watching him and his reactions to you. Looking at my spouse can hardly be described as creepy. As for being indecent and disgusting, I am going to have to say that we disagree on that. I'm not wearing anything that is inappropriate for this location or my activities. What do you want me to cover up? In fact, I would argue that your low cut sports bra and spandex shorts are far more revealing and indecent than my current clothing choices."

"Spencer," Aaron chided gently with no heat to his voice. "It isn't worth getting upset at what she says. Are you ready to head home?"

Spencer took a long, calculating look at the woman fuming in front of him. Clearly she wanted to refute what he had said but Aaron had cut her off. "Absolutely. Oh, and you owe me some water since you just drank the last of mine."

"As you wish," Aaron said with a smile as he gently nudged Beth out of the way to open the passenger side door for Spencer and offer him a hand in putting his chair in the trunk.

"Beth," he said closing the trunk. "I think it is perfectly clear that we will never work out as training partners or anything else. Good luck with your life. Just remember not to judge people before you actually know them. That person you called creepy and disgusting? He lost his leg to an IED in Iraq protecting this country. To this day he continues to serve in the military and work as an FBI agent. While Spencer might be quirky, he is also a man with more honor and integrity in his little finger than you apparently have in your entire body. Now, if you will excuse me, I want to get home and show my husband exactly how amazing he is."

BT

The car ride back to the house was done in companionable silence after Spencer had finally cajoled Aaron into stopping at the local coffee shop for water...and an iced coffee. Both men were lost in their thoughts about how the afternoon had ended.

After pulling into the driveway, Aaron turned off the car but made no movement to get out. When Spencer saw that Aaron wasn't moving, he stopped working on his own exit. Before long, Aaron spoke. "I actually owe quite a bit to that woman."

Spencer snorted, "She is perfectly horrid, what could you owe her? You spent a couple of weeks training with her but nothing that was a make or break in your overall effort for the triathlon."

"If not for her pushy ways and Dave's insistence on using her as a training partner and potential romantic partner afterwards, you never would have to stepped up to become my trainer. Remember? It was after one of our first sessions together that you admitted that you loved me. That was also the first time that we had sex."

"Oh," Spencer said as his mind raced back to the afternoon so long ago to which Aaron was referring. A smile crept on his face as the memories flooded into him, "Want to recreate it?"

Aaron laughed deeply, "With every fiber of my being. Come on, let's hit the shower."

"Mmm...nope. That is not how it went. First, you joined me in the grass and then we went to bed to prevent our neighbors from getting a show. However, we can skip the grinding in the grass, I'm not sure I can last that long and our neighbors REALLY don't need the show I'd give them. Deal?"

"Deal."

The next few minutes were a study in organized chaos as both men, wound up from the excitement of what was to come, practically leapt from the car. Aaron went around to the back of the car to get Spencer's wheelchair while Spencer hopped out and began gathering their water bottles and other workout gear from the backseat. All items retrieved, they quickly entered the house, both anxious to get to the good part of the afternoon.

With Jack away at a summer camp, the house was empty and they took advantage of it to begin stripping the second the door close behind them. Workout gear was dropped unceremoniously in a pile by the door that was quickly slammed shut.

Aaron dropped to his knees in front of Spencer's wheelchair. He pulled Spencer's shorts down just enough to release the aching cock and engulfed him. The deep and guttural moan of appreciation that tore through the air was a strong indicator that they weren't going to make it to the bedroom this time.

The moment that Aaron grabbed at his shorts, Spencer leaned back, grateful that he hadn't moved far from the door. He spread his legs as wide as he could, the shorts and wheels still limiting Aaron's access. After a few minutes of Aaron attempting to suck his brains out through his cock, Spencer gathered enough thoughts to say "Bed, now!"

Aaron looked up from Spencer's lap, grinning mischievously. "Open the drawer and give me the lube," he said indicating the small side table by the door and well within Spencer's reach.

Spencer usually just tossed his keys and the mail there, not even paying attention to what might be lurking in the drawers. He was very pleasantly surprised when he pulled it open and found a new bottle right on top. Despite its proximity, Spencer's arousal was so strong that he fumbled trying to get it to Aaron who by this time had stood and shed his shorts, his running shirt still clinging to his well defined chest.

He laughed at the impatience of Spencer. He was merciful and grabbed at the lube, popping the top and pouring a generous amount on his right hand. He dropped the bottle on the table and dipped 2 fingers into the pool on his hand. He then reached around and began to spread it along his hole while reaching forward with his other hand to slather the rest along Spencer's weeping cock.

Hissing at the cold sensation, Spencer sat up straighter. "What are you doing?"

"Why, I'm showing you exactly how amazing you are," Aaron said as he turned around and gently gripped Spencer as he gently impaled himself on the now well lubed erection. Spencer's hands clutched his hips firmly neither supporting nor guiding, grounding himself in the feel of his lover's form.

"Oh God, oh God," Spencer said tensing as the warm wet heat fully surrounded him. He let Aaron take the lead, not wanting to hurt him from rushing. He knew that Aaron could take this, they had sex often enough that at this point, a little lube was all that was needed. Still, he didn't expect to be mounted here in the entryway. A shift of Aaron's hips and he was bottoming out, chasing all other thoughts from Spencer's mind that weren't related to the amazing man currently riding wrapped his arms around Aaron's torso right fingers tweaking his nipples, left feeling the roll of muscle under his palm. He kissed along Aaron's spine licking his lips to taste salt and skin.

All too quickly, both men found their release, Aaron relaxing back into Spencer who wrapped his arms around the larger man, holding him to his chest while they both caught their breath.

Eventually, Aaron found his voice. "That was not what I had originally intended."

"No? Then why did you have lube staged in the hallway?" Spencer said. He started to shift, uncomfortable with Aaron's weight pushing him down into the chair designed for a single person. It also didn't help that his lap was quickly becoming a sticky mess from their combined release and lube.

"Call it wishful thinking," Aaron said twisting to kiss Spencer lightly before extricating himself from the embrace. He grabbed one of their workout towels and set to wiping the two of them up while Spencer stretched his now freed limbs.

"I call it premeditated horniness," he joked. "And we really didn't do a good job of recreating that first time I told you that I love you."

"No," Aaron said. He stepped back over to Spencer, gently grabbed his chin and place a chaste kiss upon his lips. "But I still love you."

Spencer grinned goofily up at Aaron, "I love you too."


	49. Chapter 49

BAU Life

"Hey, Reid, did you hear something about a new guy starting today?" Tara asked throwing a ball of paper to get Spencer's attention.

Batting the paper away he looked up from his files, more amused than annoyed. "I know what you know which isn't much."

JJ scoffed, "But he's your husband? Don't you ever talk with him?"

"Just because I'm sleeping with the boss doesn't make me privy to every decision around here," he responded, trying to keep his voice even. JJ had been especially sharp towards him since their altercation on the flight home from a case a few weeks ago. He had not been treating her any differently, but her attitude towards him could at the most polite be described as frosty.

Tara laughed, ignoring JJ's snarking. " He didn't tell you about the new guy starting?"

"Nope, he usually leaves topics like that for me to learn through the grapevine just like everyone else. Sometimes I wish he would give me warnings but in the end, Hotch is entirely too fair," Spencer said. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to work until the time comes that the new guy gets here if there is a new guy at all."

Matt and Tara took that as their cue to focus back on their consults. JJ, upset that Spencer wasn't baited as she had wanted, flounced out of the bullpen and to the kitchen for coffee. Soon, everyone was lost in their work and thoughts of any new teammate were forgotten.

Just before calling it a day, Spencer looked up, stretching. He was about to open his mouth to ask what everyone was doing over the weekend when movement at the elevators caught his eye. Garcia was stepping off the elevator, a young Hispanic man following behind smirking at the exasperated expression gracing the technical analyst's face. As he watched the two make their way into the bullpen, Spencer found that his heart had leapt into his throat and he couldn't breathe, let alone talk as introductions were being done. With a strangled gasp, he pushed back from his desk and with a halting gait, stiff from not moving all afternoon, he fled from the oncoming duo to his husband's office.

Rushing through the doorway, he slammed the door behind him and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, left leg stretched out awkwardly as he attempted to curl himself into a ball. Almost immediately upon his entrance, Aaron was rising from his desk and moving towards the younger man. As heart-wrenching sobs and gasps for breath were all that he could make out, he knelt down slowly, moving cautiously so as not to further frighten Spencer. A gentle hand on his shoulder and suddenly, his arms were filled with his hyperventilating husband.

Spencer wasn't even aware that he had climbed into Aaron's arms. He was transported back to that sunny afternoon when his life had completely changed. He was no longer sitting on the floor of the BAU unit chief's office, he was bouncing along in an up-armored humvee taking notes. He could smell the dust and the oil, he could feel the weight of the armor that he wore. He could almost see the sun baked dirt out the small dusty window. He didn't hear anything that Aaron was saying, he could just hear the rumble of the engine and his own heart pounding in his ears. He knew what was going to happen. He knew it and couldn't do anything to stop it. He tried to scream but it came out as a strangled whimper.

Right when he knew that the pain was going to hit, right before his world went dark, he felt the strong arms engulfing him. He tried to struggle but the arms held firm. They cradled him and were a spot of warmth as fear had chilled him to his bones. He slowly began to realize that there was no pain, there was no darkness. He was not back in Iraq or even waking up again in Germany. He was in Virginia, in Quantico, at the FBI offices of the BAU. With that realization, the dam broke. Spencer clung desperately to the man holding him, sobbing.

For the next few minutes, all Aaron did was murmur quiet words, trying to soothe Spencer. Eventually, the sobs and heavy breathing quieted down into small hiccups and small huffs. When he thought it was safe, he pulled back enough to smooth Spencer's hair out of his face and to look at him, trying to assure himself that Spencer wasn't physically hurt. It was obvious though that something had upset him more than anything had in quite a long while. "Hey now, what's wrong? What happened, Love?"

Spencer leaned into the tender touch of his husband for a moment before scooting back, trying to put distance between the two of them as he remembered what had driven his frantic escape to this office. "You, how could? Why didn't you? I had to…" he started multiple thoughts but was unable to finish any single one.

"Take a deep breath, what did I do? What didn't I do? What happened, Love?"

Spencer tried to take a deep breath, his chest shuddering with the effort of calming himself down. "Why didn't you tell me about the new agent?" He attempted to glare, focusing all of the pain and anger he was feeling towards the unit chief sitting beside him on the floor.

Surprise colored Aaron's face, "You mean Agent Alvez? I thought word had spread throughout the entire section that we were getting a new agent from the Fugitive Task Force. I know you miss Derek, but even Garcia is taking the loss of her Chocolate Thunder better than this."

"He was there."

"Who was where?" Aaron prodded gently.

"Alvez, Alvez was there."

"Alvez was where?"

Frustration at not being understood lit a fire in him that burned through the other emotions waring in his chest. Spencer clumsily pulled his pant leg up to show off his left leg. "He was there when this happened. Luke fucking Alvez was part of the convoy security team that went with us to do the assessment. He was there. He saw it happen. He was there…"

As quickly as it had come, the burning fury in him died leaving him emotionally spent and limp in Aaron's arms. There was absolutely no way that Aaron could have known. Spencer had never mentioned the names of anyone there outside of his Seabees that had been wounded or killed. Iraq was a large country, tens of thousands of US service members had been in and out. Even if Aaron had known Agent Alvez's military history, what were the odds that he had been there simultaneously with Spencer? It wasn't Aaron's fault that he was blindsided by the new agent causing him to have the flashback and panic attack.

BT

Down in the bullpen, no one moved at first. Stunned by Spencer's sudden departure, they all looked nervously around before Luke broke the silence. "So um, who was that?"

"That, Newbie, was my boy genius, Doctor Spencer Reid," Garcia said. Glaring at him just because he was the Newbie and NOT her Derek Morgan.

A thoughtful look passed over his face, as though he was trying to place the name. "He didn't spend any time in the military, did he?"

"Why do you care?" Garcia demanded.

"I care because I think I remember him. He did some time in Iraq, right? About 18 months ago? Give or take a bit. I'll never forget him," Luke replied calmly. "There was this tall, skinny, nerdy, Naval officer who somehow managed to get himself and his entire unit invited backstage to the USO show. Once there, the actress was hanging all over him. It was mind-boggling. I still want to know what his secret is."

Tara and Matt shared looks of disbelief. "Spencer Reid hanging out with movie stars? I might not have known him very long but I just cannot see that happening. Especially if, as you say, they were hanging all over him. I've only seen him respond positively to a very select group of people touching him," Tara replied.

JJ, however, looked thoughtful, "Was it Lila Archer?"

Luke whirled around to face JJ, "Yeah, how did you know?"

"Well, she and Spence have a bit of a history," shrugged JJ. She wanted to look nonchalant but there was an obvious giddiness to her demeanor that showed that she was happy to know something that no one else did.

"He said something about meeting her on a case but that wouldn't explain their interaction. I've met a lot of people on cases and well, that wasn't just gratefulness," Alvez continued.

"Well, they were a bit of an item after the case was over. It didn't work out though," JJ gloated.

"Who would have thought Reid would have it in him to date an actress," Matt said. "This was before he and Hotch got together, right?"

"Isn't Hotch the Unit Chief?" Luke said looking confused.

"You bet your booty, Newbie. He and Reid have been married for a couple of years now. Don't get all wound up though, Rossi handles Reid's evaluations. There hasn't been a problem with them working together yet," Garcia responded. She narrowed her eyes at Luke, "There won't be any problems, will there?"

Looking properly cowed, Luke stuttered out an agreement. Once Garcia was mollified, conversation drifted away from Spencer and towards Luke and his history with the Bureau. No one seemed to notice that neither Spencer nor Aaron came down to greet the newest teammate.

BT

Aaron could not wrap his head around how stubborn Spencer was being about the new agent. Yesterday, after the flashback, he had refused to leave the office until it was confirmed by security downstairs that Agent Alvez had left the building for the day. While it was understandable given that Spencer was still recovering from the panic attack and didn't want to face the trigger again so quickly, it did not justify Spencer's current actions.

Right now Spencer was sitting on the couch in Aaron's office. He had his files for the day spread out across the low coffee table and was taking notes on a legal pad propped on his lap. His coffee mug was precariously balanced on the small tray that also held Aaron's coffee pot. All in all, it looked like Spencer was settling in for the long haul. According to his earlier statement, he was. He was adamantly refusing to work in the bullpen until Agent Alvez was no longer there, essentially threatening to not leave this office until Luke was removed from the team.

Well, Aaron could be just as stubborn as his husband which is why he was no taking drastic action. The team might be on stand-down for the next week in order to catch up on paperwork and get their newest member up to speed, but this break would not last forever. Agent Luke Alvez was part of the team and the two men would need to deal with it. Luckily, the problem only seemed to be on Spencer's side; Luke just seemed as confused as everyone else as to why Spencer was actively avoiding him.

Aaron desperately wished he knew why Spencer was refusing to see and work with Alvez. From all the reports and letters of recommendation, the guy was a damn fine agent and would be a wonderful addition to the team. He was more than qualified to serve as the 'muscle' that was Derek's speciality. So, something needed to be done. The team needed Alvez and the team needed Reid. As unit chief, there was only one thing to do. With a few strokes of his keyboard, he had set everything in motion to get this sorted out.

Taking a cautious sip of his coffee, Spencer looked over the rim of the mug to where his husband was shuffling papers and occasionally glaring at him. He knew he was coming across as selfish and childish, but he really wasn't ready to interact with Alvez. The man had been there, been responsible for the security of the convoy, and what happened? They ran into a fucking IED, killing and injuring a lot of people. Who was he to be responsible and walk away from that kind of security breach? There was no way that Spencer was going to absolve the soldier from his responsibility for what happened over there. Besides, all he could remember of the guy before the convoy was the incessant questions he would ask, in particular about Lila. The man didn't even think to respect the no conversation before coffee rule that was in effect for Spencer.

That is exactly why he was hiding out in Aaron's office. He didn't want to deal with the man, especially in situations where he would have to have his back. Honestly, part of him wanted to go out there and show him what his negligence in securing the convoy route had caused but he also didn't want to have that kind of stand off in the middle of the bullpen. No, this was something very private. As Spencer had no plans of having a private conversation with the insufferable man, it meant that the conversation was just going to have to wait, forever.

The knock on the door was not unexpected, Aaron was the unit chief after all. What was unexpected though was Agent Luke Bloody Alvez stepping into the office with naught but a casual "You wanted to see me, Hotch?"

"Alvez, yes, thank you, come in," Aaron said standing from behind his desk. He was studiously ignoring the daggers that Spencer was shooting from his eyes. Whatever this was, he should have been warned so he could have left before Alvez came up. "Agent Luke Alvez, I'd like you to meet Dr Spencer Reid, the final member of our team."

"LT Reid, right? I remember you. We met back in the DFAC in Iraq, right?" Alvez said taking a step towards the couch were Spencer remained glued to his seat.

Ignoring the outstretched hand, Spencer rose stiffly. "Yes, we did." He turned his attention to his husband who was looking both guilty and proud at the moment. "Agent Hotchner, may I have a word in private?"

Sensing that he was treading on thin ice, Aaron made the hopefully correct choice. "Actually, I have a meeting with Section Chief Cruz in a few minutes. We can have that private word after my meeting. In the meantime, I think that you two need to talk. The office is yours for the next hour."

Both Luke and Spencer stared unbelievingly at Aaron as he slipped out of the office, shutting the door behind him. The first one to break, Luke turned towards Spencer. "So, what's going on? I feel like I'm missing something?"

"You feel like you are missing something?" Spencer laughed bitterly. "Ha! That's hysterical."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about this," he said as he viciously yanked his pant leg up to show off the prosthesis.

Luke's eyes widened in shock, "Fuck. Did that happen...you were part of...fuck."

Fury was raging in Spencer's eyes as he stood before the other man. "You did this. You were responsible for the security of the fucking convoy. You didn't do your damn job. People were killed and injured because you didn't do your damn job. Do you really think that I want to work with you again? Do you really think that I can trust you to have my back? To keep me safe? You certainly did a spectacular job of it the last time."

As Spencer had moved slowly towards Luke, he had found that he could do nothing but fall back into the seat at Hotch's desk. "You were part of that convoy? The one that hit the IEDs on the way back?"

"Yes, the one for which YOU were assigned route security."

"And you blame me for not properly securing the route?"

"Hallelujah, he is finally getting it!" Reid crowed throwing his hands up in a gross mimicry of praise.

"That route was as fucking secured as it was going to get. All of the intel that we had indicated that the rebel forces who had been laying the IEDs had moved west. You don't remember that the reason that the convoy dates shifted included the need to resend EOD (explosive ordnance disposal) teams out to clear the route? There was no way in fucking hell that I could have known that the IED was there. Hell, we had come out using that same route and none of our lookouts along the way saw signs of anyone planting anything after we had passed by in the morning. It was a goddamned fucking fluke that the convoy hit it."

Reid was gobsmacked, "You sent EOD out to clear the route before the convoy?"

"Yes! Even though we had good intel on the groups moving out of the region, we weren't going to leave it to chance. My team and I did everything we could to keep you safe. Are you seriously holding this against me?"

Feeling slightly cowed under the onslaught of facts, "Yes. You were responsible for security, we got hurt. People were killed," he finished softly.

Standing up and stepping into Spencer's space, "Yes, people were hurt, people were killed. It was fucking war, Reid. We did everything we could, but shit happens and things go wrong in war."

Spencer nodded numbly, "That's what my therapist keeps telling me. He keeps telling me that it wasn't my fault. That I didn't set the IED. I didn't drive over it. I am not responsible for the acts of war from the rebel groups."

"And do you believe that when he says it?"

"Not usually," Spencer said automatically. "They were my sailors, my responsibility. I know that I could have and should have done more to bring them all home in one piece. Hell, I didn't even do enough to bring myself home in one piece."

"Fuck man, you have got some issues," Luke said, hoping that Spencer's fury had died down and was going to be receptive to the joking tone that he used.

Spencer wasn't sure if he had heard Luke right. Did he just say that _Spencer_ had issues? The guy barely knew him! How dare he...oh...as he replayed the comment in his mind he realized that it was meant to be humorous. "Uhh...yeah, umm..I guess?" he said grimacing in an attempt to smile at the weak humor.

"Look, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that you have some deep seated issues with my being on the team. Not only was I there when you were injured thus dredging up all sorts of shit that you are still dealing with, but I was in a position that you can easily use me as a scapegoat for what went down, am I right?"

Spencer nodded and so Luke continued. "That means that you have been avoiding me because you don't want me on the team because you don't trust me. If I got you blown up once, what's to say it won't happen again? Look, man, I get it. I'm happy to be used as a TEMPORARY scapegoat but you have got to work out these issues man. You don't think I've been working them out too? With my own therapist? Shit, your list of issues probably pales in comparison to mine."

"Oh, you are also having to deal with the shit of being handicapped?" Spencer snarked. It was clear that the worst of the storm had passed between the two men. It was now time to see if they could find some sort of common ground.

"Easy now, this isn't a contest…."

"And if I wanted it to be? Winner stays on the BAU team?" Spencer started to smirk.

Holding his hands up in a defensive posture, Alvez tactically retreated a few steps away from Reid. "Whoa there! I thought we were making progress!"

"We are. Can we just agree that this is not going to be easy?"

Luke looked thoughtful, "It's not going to be easy for either of us. No offense, but everytime I see you now I'm going to be reminded of how fucking lucky I was. Shit, man, I'm going to need to schedule some extra sessions with the VA therapist. I could very easily have been in your shoes and that is messing with me already."

"And Aaron is likely to force me to extra sessions with my therapist over all this. Obviously, I'm not handling this as well as everyone thought."

"Obviously."

Spencer looked towards the office window where the blinds were drawn tightly. "Do you think we can work together?"

"I don't know. Do you think we can?"

He looked away from the window and towards the eager young agent. "We shall see. In the meantime, Aaron is so going to pay for this." He paused, "Welcome to the team?"


	50. Chapter 50

BAU Life

"You are doing what?" The question came out as a disbelieving squeak from one very shocked SSA Spencer Reid.

"I'm stepping down as unit chief. I will be giving my official transfer request to Cruz later today but we have already discussed it," Aaron said evenly, making direct eye contact with his agent.

"I heard you, Aaron. What I really meant is why are you doing that? You love your job, you love the BAU! What the hell, Aaron?"

"Dr. Reid, may I remind you that we are in the office. Please try to control your reactions."

The glare that Hotch got in return for that would have caused a lesser man to shrink back in fear. Knowing and loving Spencer though, Aaron held his own. He knew that this was a big change for him, his family, and the team. It was exactly for that reason that he wanted to tell Spencer first, before he even handed in his transfer request to Section Chief Cruz.

"Oh God, what if they bring in someone like Strauss to be the unit chief? I know Rossi misses her, but she was utterly toxic for this unit. This is a disaster! You can't leave, you can't! We are practically a new team trying to work together! Tara, Alvez, and Simmons haven't been with us but for a few minutes, and JJ is still trying to get her feet as profiler rather than media specialist. We are more or less short handed as it is. We can't lose you!"

"Spencer, breathe! I know all of this. After everything that has happened recently, I am tired. I want to spend more time with Jack, I want to spend more time at home. Scratch reminded me that I need a break. I need something different."

"Then take a break! Use some of your vacation and comp time to take some time off! You don't need to leave the BAU completely," Spencer countered.

Aaron shook his head, "No, I'm done. I've lasted as long as I can in this unit. I don't want to burn out like others we have seen. I want to leave on my terms and these are those terms."

A tense silence fell between the two men as they each recalled their former teammates who had left under less than ideal conditions. Aaron resisted the urge to fidget as Spencer stood before him, angry and confused.

"You said transfer paperwork. You didn't say retirement or resignation paperwork. What aren't you telling me?" Spencer demanded.

Aaron stifled the urge to sigh in relief, if Spencer had calmed down enough to ask questions on the subtle clue that Aaron had given him, then he was already on his way to accepting the first part of this change. "I've been offered a position to teach at the Academy. It would be regular hours with a lot more freedom to take time off. I might actually get to use some of the comp time I have saved up! To start, I'd be teaching a class on profiling and eventually they have plans to move me into a position covering additional classes and training evolutions."

"You would be a good instructor," Spencer nodded. "You were wonderful when teaching me marksmanship years ago."

"I'd be happy to help you with your weapon or let you handle mine any time," Aaron leered at Spencer causing both of them to dissolve into a fit of giggles.

Laughter easing up, Spencer flopped into the chair across the desk from his husband. "So what happens now? You give your transfer request to Cruz and he approves it. Then what? We are probably going to be stuck here until we get a new UC. Like I said, I hope it isn't someone like Strauss. Think Rossi will put in for it? He obviously knows the job but I can't imagine him wanting to deal with the paperwork and politics of the position. I can't think of anyone else though that they would bring in to the position."

"And that was something I wanted to talk to you about, Spencer," Aaron began.

"That sounds ominous, Hotch."

"I wanted to submit your name for consideration for the UC position," finished Aaron.

"I...I don't think I heard you correctly. You want to put MY name in for consideration?"

Aaron smiled at his husband. Since his declaration of intent to get him a promotion, Spencer had straightened in his chair, shock and disbelief etched in his features. "Yes. Aside from Dave no one else has anywhere near the amount of time with the unit as you do. You realize that you have been here at the BAU for over 13 years already? While JJ was here slightly before you, you are correct that she doesn't have the profiling experience and she had an extended leave from the team while working with the State Department."

"And what of my extended leave of absence? Aaron, I'm still in the Navy. What will the team do while I'm drilling or heaven forbid, I deploy again? Hell, what local agency is going to take me seriously as the UC? I'm too skinny, too nerdy, too damaged...I can't be the UC!" Spencer ranted. "It has barely been a year since I've come back as a full field agent!"

"Ah, but you are a full field agent. Spencer, you are more than capable of this. You are good at what you do,"

"Yes, geographic profiling, linguistic analysis, and overall subject matter expert. I'm not UC material," Spencer interrupted.

Unphased, Aaron continued "You are good at paperwork and politics even if you don't enjoy them. I know I never did but you know and can understand the system faster and better than anyone else. I also know that you are a far better leader than you give yourself credit. As for the Navy? Well, when you are doing your training the team is usually in a stand down period as it is. Having the UC out will mean your second will have additional work for the time being."

"And deployment?"

Aaron levelled his gaze at Spencer, "First, you are currently in your dwell period from your last deployment. Second, while I know you do not like to consider yourself a wounded veteran, you are exactly that. Honestly, what are the odds that the Navy will actually force you to deploy again given the injuries you incurred during your previous deployment?"

Spencer looked down at his lap, letting his hand run up and down his left thigh, feeling the solid weight of the prosthetic under his hand. "Valid. They are unlikely to deploy me unless I volunteer and they are unable to find any alternates. My days of deployment are over." Spencer sighed, "Maybe I should have taken the retirement."

That had Aaron laughing outright, "You never would have been happy with yourself if you had done that. You have to admit, it isn't so bad being back in a drilling status, is it?"

"No, no it isn't. The first few weekends were difficult but I do really like this unit. I've gotten to do a lot more traveling with it than I anticipated."

"Speaking of units, have you heard from your friend, Adam, lately?"

Spencer's eyes narrowed at the innocent question. "I know what you are doing, Aaron. You can't change the subject that easily. Although, I did get a completely inappropriate text message from him the other day. I swear that I don't know how that man does it. He makes me feel like a blushing virgin even though you and I both know I am far from that."

"For which I will continue to be eternally grateful," Aaron smirked.

"Pervert," Spencer grinned. "Now, when are you going to tell the rest of the team? Before or after Cruz approves the transfer for you?"

"After. I don't want to break this kind of news and then have my plans not come to fruition."

Spencer nodded, "That makes sense. Aside from your asinine suggestion to promote me to UC, I don't see why Cruz would disapprove the transfer. He has seen enough people burn out here already that he wouldn't take any chances on that happening to you."

"My suggestion is not asinine. It is well thought out and logical."

"If you say so, Boss."

Aaron smirked, "Not for much longer."

BT

"No. You can't be leaving Bossman. You absolutely cannot be leaving," Garcia proclaimed.

Around the room, similar statements echoed the disbelief. Aaron raised his hands, quieting everyone with that simple gesture. "I am. I have spoken with Section Chief Cruz and he supports my decision. I am not retiring completely, I will simply be transferring to teach at the Academy. I am thinking of this as my way to train the next generation in the basics so that you as a team can mold them into proper profilers."

"Who is going to take over as UC?" JJ asked, ambition glinting in her eyes. "Has Cruz said anything about that yet?"

"No, not yet. We have discussed it in length but no formal offers have been made to a prospective UC. I won't be transferring for a few months. Until then we will still be taking and working cases as normal. It is my intention that during that time I will be working with my replacement and there will therefore be no down time for the team when I leave."

It didn't escape Rossi's sharp gaze the way that Aaron focused his attention on Reid when he spoke of a replacement. For a man that so many had trouble reading, Aaron really didn't have much of a poker face if you knew him. He smiled indulgently at Aaron and Spencer. "Well, let it be known that I have zero desire to move up to that position. "

"So noted, Dave," Aaron said fighting a grin. "Now, with that out of the way, Garcia? I believe we have a case?"

"Yes, Sir, Bossman! This one is a doozy. Well, they always are but this one especially," she said flicking a button and bringing the screen to life. "You can see all the gory details on your tablets."

"How bad could it be?" Alvez asked as he grabbed his tablet and started to pull up the file.

Garcia leveled a stare at the agent. "You will all soon be on your way to sunny Florida, Newbie. It's Florida bad."

A collective shudder went through the group.

"Garcia, give us the highlights, we need to get to the airfield," Aaron said.

"Right-o," she responded and proceeded to give everyone a rough outline of what brought the case to the BAU's attention. In almost record time they were dispersing to gather their go bags and meet at the jet.

Making their way down the catwalk to the bullpen, JJ turned to Tara, "I'm going to miss Hotch but I think it is exciting that we are getting a new Unit Chief. It has been an old boy's club for far too long."

Tara gave her a questioning look, "How do you know that the new UC is going to be a woman?"

"Well, of course it is! I'm sure I'm being considered for it. I've been here longer than anyone other than Rossi. He said himself he doesn't want it, so who else would do it? They never like bringing in outsiders to be unit chief. Besides, I've worked with Cruz before, he knows me."

Listening in, Simmons interjects, "I thought Spencer had been here just as long as you?"

"Spencer? No, he hasn't been here as long. I was here for about a year before he was. Besides, he was gone for so long playing Navy that I definitely have seniority over him," JJ scoffed.

"Is that true?" Alvez said quietly to Spencer who was walking next to him.

Spencer's grin could only be called predatory, "Almost, but not quite. Yes, she was here for about a year before I was. However, during that time she was the media liaison. An important position, but not one dealing with the actual profiling nor the running of the unit. As she has only been a profiler since she returned from the state department, she absolutely does not have seniority over me. While we are on that subject, she too took an extended time away from the BAU to go 'play military'. How conveniently she forgot that."

Alvez whistled low, "Damn, she does have some balls saying that in front of you."

Spencer shrugged, "She wasn't like this before. The State Department changed her. Unless it is something that's going to cause problems with the team or a case, I just ignore it. Hopefully one day she will snap out of it."

"You are a better man than I am," he said. "It's going to be weird not having Hotch around. I'm having trouble picturing this place without him."

"You and me both, Alvez, you and me both!" Spencer said as he grabbed his bag from under his desk.

BT

Once everyone was safely on the jet and it was winging its way towards everyone's favorite state in the union, JJ got up from where she had been reviewing the case file to corner Aaron in the small galley.

"So, Hotch, you said no formal offer had been made yet for a new UC. I just wanted to let you know that I, as the most senior member of the team next to Rossi, that I'd love to step up to the position. You know I'd be great at it."

Aaron wanted to say that he was surprised when JJ came up to him and put herself forward for the role of unit chief. He wasn't all that surprised though. Since she had returned from the State Department, she had been different, harder and more aggressive were some of the nicer terms to describe her new attitude. While at times it was a benefit to the team, more often than not it created friction. He had been trying to subtly guide her into channeling her more off-putting tendencies into productive profiling and team building. It was looking like he had not been as successful as he had thought.

"You are correct, no formal offer has been made. However, both Section Chief Cruz and I have already talked with the prospective UC and he seems very receptive to the position," he replied neutrally. "While it is true that you have been with the team for a number of years, you have only been working as a profiler for a very short period of time comparatively. While you are excelling given the short time in this position you quite simply aren't ready to step into this role. I do, however, hope that you will continue to support the incoming UC just as you have me. You are a valuable asset to the BAU."

While he spoke, Aaron watched as JJ's eyes narrowed and her gaze turned from him to beyond him where the rest of the team were sitting and reading.

"I see," she said tightly before excusing herself to go back to her seat.

From the galley, Aaron watched as she flopped into her seat and glared at Spencer. While he hadn't said it in so many words, enough clues had been dropped that she had put them together and come up with the very accurate answer of Spencer being the prospective UC. Aaron sighed, he knew that the transition wasn't going to be easy for any of them, but this was not a good omen of things to come. Thankfully, Tara, Luke, and Matt all seemed to be on board with the transition. Then again, none of them had been with the team for very long in comparison to Spencer, JJ, Dave, and Penelope. Yup, this was going to be an interesting transition.


	51. Chapter 51

Personal Life

"There is absolutely no way that I heard you correctly. You are doing what now?" Spencer said as he put the phone back to his ear. He had been staring at it dumbly for several moments before, just trying to process what he had been told.

"Spencer, man, don't you know that those who can't do, teach? I'm teaching now," came the staticy reply on the phone.

"Yes, I know you are teaching. That isn't what I'm not understanding, Ethan. You are teaching at our old high school? Are you kidding me? Why would you ever willingly set foot back in that hellhole? Don't you remember what it was like?" Spencer was nearly screeching, in a manly way of course, by the end of his rant.

Silence on the other end of the line gave him pause, thinking perhaps he had said something wrong and offended his friend. "I do remember, Spencer, and that is exactly why I'm back here to teach. I remember how bad it was for me and for what I know of you. I remember wanting at least one teacher or authority figure to take an interest in us as more than just the brilliant students we were. I wanted someone I knew I could turn to back then and so I'm trying to be that person now, to be the safe haven for the bullied."

Spencer's righteous indignation crumbled at Ethan's admission. He could easily remember how much he had wished that there was a teacher who listened to him. In the wake of the goalpost incident, he dreamed of having someone who simply believed him when he tried to tell them the story. Even if he could never imagine becoming that person, he was glad that someone was trying.

"You are a better man than I am," he said as way of apology to Ethan.

"Well, since you believe that you want to know how to make it up to me?" Ethan replied, the smirk almost audible.

"What did you have in mind?" Spencer asked cautiously.

"Our 20th reunion is coming up in a couple of months and I want you and your husband to be there. Come, shmooze with me and the few other non-cretins in our class. Show them all that you actually did make it through puberty."

He wasn't sure what he expected Ethan to say, but it certainly wasn't a demand on his presence for the high school reunion. "I don't know, Ethan. I've got a lot going on here. I'm not sure that I could get the time off, let alone both Aaron and I. Really, it just isn't a good idea."

Aaron, who had been reading a book on the couch when the phone rang, had long since put it to the wayside while Spencer was talking with Ethan. He mouthed the words, "What are you getting me into now?"

Spencer waved Aaron off and continued his conversation with Ethan. "Fine. I'll talk to him. I am not making any promises. I really don't want to go. If I do come, it will be for you and you alone. Anything that happens is on your head, Ethan."

"You are such a drama queen, Spencer. You might be surprised at how much fun you have WHEN you come to the reunion," Ethan's smile could practically be heard over the phone line.

"Whatever, I am getting off the phone now," Spencer said.

After hanging up on his friend, Spencer turned to his husband. "Well, that was unexpected."

"What did Ethan want? And how did I get dragged into it?"

Sighing, spencer flopped onto the couch next to Aaron. "Ethan gave up on being a jazz musician in New Orleans to go and teach music at our old high school."

"I'm still not seeing how this involves me," Aaron prompted when Spencer seemed unwilling to continue.

With a glare lacking all heat, Spencer finished. "Our 20th high school reunion is this year and he wants me to come, bringing you."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. I really don't know how I feel about this. High school was miserable."

"So you don't want to go," Aaron stated. "I am sure that we will catch a case or at least our leave will be disapproved."

Spencer shook his head, "No, I think I should go and that's the problem. I don't want to go but I owe it to Ethan. I owe him a lot."

"He helped you get clean after the case in New Orleans," Aaron said picking up on where Spencer was going with his train of thought. "You haven't kept in touch very well and he specifically asked for this."

Spencer nodded. "Mmhmm."

"When is the reunion?"

"In about 8 weeks. Invitations just got mailed out a few days ago he said. We should be getting it any time now"

"If you feel you need to go, I'll see about making sure the team is on stand down."

"Thanks, Aaron," Spencer said, his smile grateful and yet a touch sad.

BT

Spencer looked around McCarran International Airport and sighed. "This was a bad idea, Aaron. Why are we doing this?"

"We are doing this because you promised your friend that you would come out here for him," Aaron replied guiding his husband towards the baggage claim.

Spencer's glare was without heat as he followed his husband to collect their bags.

Bags retrieved, the two men made their way to a small hotel off the main strip. While Spencer had never been officially banned from any of the casinos and their associated hotels, he was very much a fan of some of the smaller, boutique hotels that catered to those more interested in activities outside of the glitz of the strip. As a bonus, it was closer to the high school where the reunion would actually be taking place.

Pulling up to the school the next evening, Spencer stared at the building that had given him so many terrible memories. After he had reluctantly agreed to attend the reunion, Spencer had found that his night terrors had slowly morphed from his time in Iraq to now become a strange combination of war and high school.

"Well this is new," Spencer mumbled as they entered the doors to the school and were greeted by a set of metal detectors and security guards.

"Not surprising though," Aaron started as he reached for his credentials. "Many schools have started to have metal detectors and uniformed security in the recent wake of school shootings."

"I hate metal detectors," Spencer grumbled. He had pulled his credentials to allow for his carrying of his service weapon. He let Aaron go first, removing both his main and back up weapons, for review along with his credentials. After passing successfully through the machine, it was Spencer's turn.

Just as he was handing over his credentials, Spencer heard a female voice behind him. "Well, well, well, if it isn't little Spencer Reid. I didn't expect you to show your face here."

Turning around, he found himself facing two of his classmates. Despite the years, it was easy to see exactly who they were. "Alexa, Harper," he nodded shortly before turning his attention back to the security guard.

"Thank you," he said, taking the credentials back. "Would it be possible to be wanded or hand searched rather than walk through?"

The guard looked at him, "I guess. Step over there and wait."

"Oh, still wanting special treatment, eh Spencer? It wasn't enough that you got all the attention when we were students, now you don't even want to go through security," Alexa sniped as she walked through the metal detector.

Spencer rolled his eyes. Were these really the people that he had feared back in high school? "No, I'm not looking for special treatment. I just thought it would save time since they would have done a hand search if I had tried to go through. I'm just cutting out the middleman."

Harper at least looked intrigued. "Why would you get searched?"

"We are both carrying our service weapons," Aaron interjected. He had been watching the interaction between Spencer and the two women with interest. The names had been familiar when Spencer had said them but it hadn't been until the one had started being rude that he had placed them as two of Spencer's high school bullies.

"Service weapons? You carry a gun, Spencer?" Alexa asked, eyes wide. "Why would a teacher carry a gun?"

It was Spencer's turn to be confused. "Teacher? Who said I was a teacher?"

"Well, what else would you do?" Harper said. "I thought for sure that someone as smart as you would become a professor or something."

"Um, almost anything else?" Spencer replied in confusion. "I don't think I've taught a class since I was a TA during grad school. I only did that as part of funding that degree."

"So what do you do?" Harper pressed.

Spencer looked over at Aaron who simply raised an eyebrow. "Look, Harper, Alexa, I'd love to continue this discussion but can we do it in the gym? I'd like to stop holding up the security line."

With a huff, both Alexa and Harper left the hall to go to the gymnasium leaving Spencer to go through security. The guard waved him around the metal detector and Spencer stepped up to the place indicated, spreading his legs and holding his arms out. As the second guard came over to him with the wand, Spencer informed him of his prosthetic. When the guard nodded, he lifted his pant leg up to show the metal there. The guard set down the wand did a quick pat down and let Spencer join Aaron.

Entering the gym, Spencer's eyes went wide. Most of the large overhead lights remained off. Around the rest of the room smaller fairy lights were strung, twinkling merrily. The lights bounced off of the decorations, streamers and paper stars hung from the rafters interspersed with balloons. At first glance it looked like every high school dance cliche had thrown up in the gymnasium. It was cliched and magical all at once. "So this is what prom is like!" he said, excitement coloring his voice.

Looking around, Aaron had to admit that it did look like a prom scene from the early '90s. "More or less. I am guessing that this is similar to your senior prom theme?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. I never went to prom," Spencer answered, eyes still taking in the decorations.

Before Aaron could respond, someone came flying up behind him, wrapping Spencer in a giant hug. "Spencer! You made it!"

"Oof! Ethan, you asshole, let go!" Spencer stumbled, reaching out for balance but grasping nothing but air as he fell backwards, his friend landing on top of him.

"Huh, I always knew you were queer," Alexa said as she watched Spencer try to untangle himself from Ethan.

As he was struggling to stand, Harper caught sight of Spencer's left leg. "What's wrong with your leg?" She asked.

"Huh? Oh, that. Umm, is it really any of your business?" Spencer replied, dusting himself off and glaring at Ethan for the tackle.

Looking properly chastised, Harper closed her mouth before saying anything else. Alexa was not quite as polite, "And here I thought that reunions were for catching up with classmates. How can we do that when everything is secret with you, Spencer?"

Standing to his not inconsiderable height, Spencer turned to glare at Alexa. "I did not come here to 'catch up with classmates.' I came to spend time with my friend, Ethan, and to support him as a teacher at our alma mater. I was not your friend in high school and I am not your friend now. Why you feel that our mutual attendance at the same public school entitles you to any information on the past 20 years is beyond me."

"Well, there is no need to be rude!" Alexa huffed.

Aaron had been holding himself back. He had wanted to give Spencer the opportunity to deal with the bullies himself. However, even his patience was at the end of the line. "Alexa, is it?" when she nodded he continued. "I believe that Spencer has been anything but rude to you since his arrival here. You seem to be obsessed with him and yet as he has stated, he has no responsibility to respond. If you continue this harassment I will have no choice but to arrest you."

"Arrest me? For what? Who are you?" Alexa turned her glare to Aaron.

Aaron looked over at Spencer who nodded his consent. He reached into his jacket, pulling out his badge as he answered. "I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner of the FBI. As you are harassing a federal agent it would be well within my jurisdiction to arrest you."

"What federal agent? I'm not bothering you. I'm just talking to little Spencer here. Besides, what right do you even have to be here? This is a reunion and I know you didn't go to school here," she rebutted.

Harper, however, had noticed how Spencer and this FBI agent had been together at security and again here was starting to put together the pieces. "Alexa, just cool it. I think he is saying that SPENCER is the federal agent. Come on, let's just go," she pleaded to her friend.

"No, I want answers," Alexa demanded, turning her attention back to Spencer and Aaron. "Why are you here and why are you defending Spencer?"

"Uh, guys? I think you are starting to cause a scene," Ethan said quietly.

It was true, a small crowd had gathered around the five of them. Had this been 20 years ago, Spencer would have been doing everything he could do not draw attention to himself. After everything that had happened since the last time he had been in this gymnasium, he realized that he honestly didn't care. Ignoring the curious stares fixed on him, Spencer looked at Alexa. At one point he would have looked at her with longing, she had been the most beautiful girl in his senior class. That longing had turned to fear after the incident with the football team. Now though, now he just looked at her with pity. This was a woman who had never actually grown up beyond high school.

"Alexa, just shut up. Aaron is here because as my husband, I invited him. As for the federal agent, I work with him for the FBI. Now, could you please leave us alone otherwise I will not stop him from arresting you," Spencer said in a tired voice.

Harper perked up at Spencer's admission. "Your husband? You work for the FBI? What do you do?"

Turning his gaze to Harper, he decided to just answer. "I'm a field agent for the Behavioural Analysis Unit at the FBI." There was a note of pride in his voice as it had not been that long ago that his status as a field agent had been in jeopardy. "And yes, my husband."

Before he had a chance to say anything else, everyone's attention was pulled to the other end of the room by the sound of a screeching microphone. Standing on the stage was the school principal, attempting to welcome the alumni for the reunion. With surprising speed, the crowd dispersed and everyone began to make their way to the tables scattered throughout the space.

No longer in the spotlight, Spencer stepped closer to lean into Aaron with a sigh. He knew that the reunion was going to bring up a lot of old memories but he thought he would at least have a chance to get some punch before anything happened. That said, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he had really overestimated the situation. Why had he had nightmares over this? He had literally stared down serial killers and the worst of humanity. He had survived an IED. Why should he be afraid of his high school tormentors after all of that?

A sense of peace settled over Spencer. He looked around the space, letting his inner profiler take in the details of the the decorations hanging around the rafters to the men and women, trying to look younger and more successful than they were. He had been granting them power over him that they did not deserve. In the grand scheme of things they meant nothing to him. The things that mattered were his family and friends, the ones who had been beside him through the good and the bad. These people had played a role in his past, in shaping who he was but they weren't a part of his life now nor would they ever be again.

He looked over at his husband, a smile gracing his lips. Aaron was trying so hard to look interested in what the principal was saying but it was obvious that he was using the skills he had honed in boring meetings with the Bureau to feign interest. Spencer's heart melted as he knew that Aaron was doing this just for him, to make him happy and to support him. If it was possible, Spencer was even more in love than when they arrived at the party.

Spencer soon found his own attention being drawn away from his spouse and directed to the stage. The principal had moved on from opening remarks to introducing the class president, Molly Ames. Spencer remembered her fondly. They had been in calculus together and had worked together on several group projects. He remembered her as a bright and compassionate woman and one of the few with whom Spencer had the desire to 'catch up with'. He settled back, arranging his chair to allow him to lean into Aaron's shoulder, as he listened to her speech.

Thankfully she kept her remarks brief before inviting everyone to start partying like it was 1994 again. A DJ started playing in the background as everyone started to stand and make their way to the tables of finger foods and punch lining the wall. The entire evening had a festive air, Spencer and Aaron were both relaxing into the fun and nostalgia of the early '90s.

Aaron held Spencer close as they danced to one of the frequent slow songs. They swayed gently to the music, both lost in thought. For Aaron, this entire evening brought back strange memories of his college days and dancing with Haley. While he could never regret those years, especially as they gave him Jack, he wonders at how much better his life was now that he was married to Spencer.

Spencer for his part, snuggled into the warmth of the embrace. He had been far too young to attend any of the traditional high school dances. By the time that college had rolled around, he had no desire to attend the parties. He attended formal functions now as necessary, far preferring military balls than anything for the FBI. Those functions though, were ultimately work functions and weren't conducive to snuggling with his husband. Here, at this dance, there were no expectations, no company policies, no regulations, nothing but the opportunity to relax and have fun.

And surprisingly, Spencer was having fun. The DJ was showing her skill as she kept the party moving. She kept up a fast pace of songs that had people constantly on the dance floor and yet gave enough slower songs so as to encourage breaks and conversation. He might not like the music being played, but he could absolutely appreciate the skill that the DJ was showing in keeping everyone entertained.

After a particularly long slow dance, Aaron guided Spencer to the table at which they had been sitting earlier. A quick kiss on the top of his head and Aaron disappeared with the promise of bringing food and drink. Confident that his husband could handle the horde surrounding the food table, Spencer leaned back in his seat, stretching out his legs and let the music and atmosphere simply wash over him. He then felt the presence of someone standing behind him. It wasn't Aaron and it certainly wasn't Ethan, he never could be quiet. "Can I help you?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"I hope so," was the soft reply.

Spencer's eyes popped open when he recognized Harper's voice. "Harper," he said, suddenly feeling very defensive. "What do you want?"

Gesturing toward the seat that Aaron had been using earlier, Spencer nodded that she could sit down. Sitting down, she held her hands tightly clasped in her lap and stared down at them. "I...I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I know that it is really too little and far too late, but I really am sorry. I don't really have an excuse and I shouldn't need one. What I did to you back in high school was wrong. I just got so caught up in everything and…"

"Harper," Spencer interrupted. "Stop. It was a long time ago. You are right, it is too little and too late."

Harper's hopeful expression fell. Not sure if it was the lights or lack thereof, but Spencer could almost see tears glistening in her eyes.

"Look, for what's it worth, I appreciate the apology. I'm not the same scared little boy that I was back in high school. I've changed and grown up. Do I wish that things had gone differently back then? Absolutely. But honestly, none of that matters. Harsh though it may be, you don't matter to me. I love my life just the way it is and you are simply not part of it." Spencer watched her expression change while he spoke. It went from utterly crestfallen to thoughtful.

"That is more than I deserve," she said. "I know I shouldn't, but I am sorry that Alexa has been needling you all evening."

He laughed, "I expected it. Truth be told, I expected a lot worse tonight. Turns out high school and all the memories aren't nearly as scary as serial killers."

"Serial killers? Geez, I mean I know we weren't all that nice to you but that's a bit extreme of a comparison, isn't it?" Harper said startling.

"Well, considering I spend my days around them I don't find it all that extreme."

Harper looked sharply at Spencer's calm expression. "You spend your time around serial killers? I know you said something about the FBI and some sort of unit. What do you do? Are you some kind of analyst or something?"

"No, I am a real, live field agent for the FBI in their Behavioural Analysis Unit. It is our job to profile serial offenders and work with local law enforcement to catch them."

"I still can't believe that you would do something like that. You were always so tiny and nerdy," she shook her head.

"I grew up," he said succinctly. "Now, if you will excuse me, I see that Aaron is returning and I'd like to spend some more time with him."

She watched as he stood, noticing again that something was off about his left leg. As he started to walk away she called out, "Hey, what did happen to your leg?"

Spencer paused, turning back to her. "Harper, while I am happy to accept the apology that you have given me that doesn't mean that we are suddenly bosom buddies. Like I said, you don't matter to me and quite frankly what happened to my leg is something that I don't want to discuss with a stranger such as yourself. Enjoy your night." Conversation closed, he made his way to where Aaron had been hanging back to let Spencer deal with his classmate.

As Spencer approached, Aaron smiled. "Is it wrong of me to say how proud I am of you right now?"

"Why are you proud of me?"

"For basically telling her to stuff it in the nicest possible way. I love you, Spencer."

"I love you too, Aaron. Now, give me the punch that you seem to enjoy holding hostage," Spencer said reaching out pluck the small plastic cup from Aaron's hand. "Ugh, I never did like fruit punch. Still, better than nothing. Cheers!"

It wasn't long before he was dragging Aaron out on the floor for what had been termed 'the last chance to snuggle with your sweetheart.'' Spencer gladly wrapped himself in his husband's arms as the song played. When it ended, the lights rose in the gym, ending the magic of the night and leaving everyone blinking at the sudden brightness. The tender moment between the two men over, they held hands and wandered over to the side wall where they spotted Ethan talking to a few fellow classmates.

"Hey, Ethan, you aren't on clean up detail are you?" Spencer said as they approached.

"No, I helped some with set up, but the committee got a couple of other people to volunteer to clean up," he replied cautiously. "Why?"

Spencer looked a bit sheepish, "Well, I remember everyone talking about how they would go out to the diner a few blocks away, you know the one with the awesome milkshakes? Anyway, I remember hearing that it was the cool place to go after sporting events and dances."

Ethan nodded slowly, "Yeah, I know the place. Decent burgers but you are right that they really are known for their amazing milkshakes. It is still the favorite place for students here. Why? Do you want to go there? This is Vegas and we are of age now, we don't have to go to the teen hangouts. We can go and have some real fun!"

Spencer looked pleadingly at Aaron. To his credit, Aaron immediately understood what Spencer was trying to get across. "I think a milkshake sounds fantastic."

Spencer beamed at his husband. He truly was trying to make the night as special and memorable as possible for him. As silly as it sounded, he was finally getting to enjoy all of the little things that his high school classmates had taken for granted. So what if it was the high school hang out and they were 20 years removed? He wanted to experience it! Sure, it wouldn't be the same but this wasn't exactly prom either. That hadn't stopped him from dancing with his date as much as could. Nor did it stop his date from treating this like a special event, getting him punch and slow dancing awkwardly together. This was Spencer's shot at making those memories that everyone else got growing up. Aaron was more than willing to indulge Spencer with creating these memories.

Ethan looked between Spencer and Aaron. When he saw what could only be described as a hopefully, puppy dog grin on Spencer's face and Aaron's indulgent smirk, he knew that he was absolutely outvoted. "Fine, let's get our stuff and get some shakes."

BT

"I really hate having to go through airport security," Spencer moaned as he settled into his seat.

Aaron, having just finished stowing their bags in the overhead compartment nodded in agreement. "Traveling this way does make me appreciate the BAU jet. I didn't think I would miss it, but I really do."

Spencer snorted, "Please, you haven't even left the BAU yet. You still have another couple of weeks before you can start talking like that."

"True. I'm just practicing."

"Well stop practicing, we are still on vacation for the duration of the flight and I do not want to think about work right now," Spencer said reaching for Aaron's hand now that they were both seated.

"As you wish. What would you like to talk about?" Aaron questioned as he threaded his fingers with his husband's. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

Spencer didn't respond immediately. After a few moments he slowly said "I did. More than I thought I would." He paused. "It was hard to be back in Vegas though and not see Mom."

"This was the first time since her funeral that you have been back, isn't it?" Seeing the nod he continued. "Then I'm glad that we went and left flowers for her."

"She was always funny about flowers. On the one hand she hated the idea of killing something so beautiful. On the other hand, she adored having them in her room for the bright colors and fragrance. So yes, yes I am glad that we were able to do that for her."

"I'm glad," Aaron said closing his eyes thinking that the conversation was over for the time being. Just as he was falling asleep he heard Spencer speak up again.

"Thank you, Aaron."

"Hmm? For what?"

Leaning over to kiss him lightly on the cheek, "For being an amazing and loving husband. Thank you for convincing me to attend and agreeing to come with me. Thank you for sticking by me when I was dealing with my past, and thank you for helping me to experience all of the good parts of high school. Just...thank you."

Aaron gripped Spencer's hand a little more tightly, "For you, anything."


	52. Chapter 52

BAU LIfe

"This is starting to become a habit with you," Dave said as he poured more alcohol into Spencer's glass.

Leaning back and puffing out the cigar smoke, Spencer turned his head slightly towards Dave to acknowledge the comment. "Perhaps, but I certainly don't consider it a bad habit."

"Never said it was bad, just a habit."

"Hmm…" Spencer

Dave looked at the younger man currently leaning back in an attempt at relaxation. To most he would appear to be the epitome of calm. To those who knew him, there was a certain stiffness and tensions to the way he held his body. He wasn't worried though, he knew that the young man would eventually start talking and once he did, he would truly relax.

"Any particular reason for this salon?"

Spencer looked at Dave thoughtfully, "You have always been Aaron's person. I mean, you have known him longer than anyone else. You mentored him as a young agent at the BAU and up until he left the unit for the Academy, you were his right hand man. Over the years I like to think that we have come to have a relationship where I can consider you my person too."

Dave looked down in his glass, watching the amber liquid swirl in the glass. He looked back up, his eyes meeting Spencer's. "I think that is a fair statement. My relationship with you is different from that of mine with Aaron. What is this about? Are you worried that I cannot be neutral between you two?"

"No, not that. More that, so much has changed. I am still trying to wrap my head around it. I do best with facts and figures. I need to be able to spell things out for myself and see the connections, the patterns to understand it. I'm just trying to understand where I am headed."

Dave chuckled darkly, "If you keep up the great work that you are doing as unit chief you are likely headed straight to the top of the FBI."

Spencer blushed, ducking his head and taking a drag on his cigar to avoid looking at Dave. "I'm not doing anything special. I just keep asking 'What would Aaron Do' whenever I don't know what to do."

"This isn't just about the FBI though, is it? If it were you would be having this conversation with Aaron. I've topped out at the Bureau and I don't regret it. You also aren't into writing non-technical documents so you aren't here because I'm a best selling author. Which means that you are here because you have questions about where you are headed regarding the Navy."

"And we have a winner!" Spencer raised his glass in a mock salute. "Don't let anyone ever tell you that you are losing your touch with old age."

"Oh be quiet, whippersnapper," Dave grinned. "But before you shut your mouth, tell me what is going on."

"I found out that I was selected to promote to Lieutenant Commander," he said quietly.

"Selected to promote? That's great news! Why aren't we all out celebrating this?" Dave said. He looked as though he was ready to grab his phone and invite everyone over to do just that.

Spencer looked at him, "Because I don't know if I should accept the promotion or just cut my losses and leave the Navy. I was doing fine just being the lame Lieutenant. People are going to have expectations though when I promote. They are going to expect me to know things and do things and I don't know if I can."

Dave's eyebrow raised. "When you promote? Sounds like you already decided it is happening."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I want this promotion. I feel like I worked damn hard to get it. I just don't know if I'm ready or ever will be."

"And were you ready to be promoted to unit chief?"

Spencer looked thoughtful for a minute, "I didn't think I was until I had Aaron basically smack me upside the head. After he did that I realized that I knew how to do it but that I was just too scared. It really hasn't been that bad, for the most part. "

"Ah, I think I know which part you mean. She really hasn't made your life easy has she? Still, you aren't drawing any parallels to what is happening now with the Navy?" Dave said, trying desperately not to grin at his clueless boss.

"No, this is Navy stuff. It isn't like the BAU."

"It isn't?"

"Dave," he said in an exasperated voice. "I've been working in the BAU for over 13 years. I've only been in the Navy for about 10 years. I was trained and groomed for the BAU. I've done what, one weekend a month and two weeks a year plus a deployment that I never even finished? You simply cannot compare the two given the time and energy I've devoted to each of them."

"For all the brains in that big old head of yours, you really can be an idiot," Dave said.

That statement startled Spencer. "What do you mean? I'm not an idiot!"

"Yes you are. You say you don't have experience but I guarantee that you have more than enough. I know you are up to date on all the research, what do you know about imposter syndrome?"

"Well, it is the feeling of being a fraud or being undeserving of current position or accomplishments. Recent studies have estimated that upwards of 70% of people experience it at some point," he responded automatically. "Your point?"

"Ever think that you could be part of that 70%?" Dave gently nudged.

Spencer looked away from Dave and focused at a point that only he could see. After a few minutes of staring off into the distance, he looked at Dave. "Do you really think that I can do it?"

"I don't think, I know, kid. Now, can I start planning your promotion party?"

Laughter bubbled out of Spencer, "Not yet. Besides, I don't even put it on until January."

"Even better! More time to plan the festivities!"

BT

Aaron had never been so grateful as when the doorbell rang that morning. Throwing it open, he was relieved then to find that it was in fact Spencer's friend Adam. "Good, you are here. He is upstairs and your problem now." He said sharply as he stepped aside to let the younger man enter.

"And good morning to you too, Hotch," Adam said as he toed off his shoes. By this point, Aaron had already left the entryway, retreating to the safety of the kitchen. Shrugging, Adam started toward the steps and Spencer.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he paused. It was quiet, almost too quiet. Based on the frazzled man downstairs, he expected Spencer to be racing around trying to get everything ready for the promotion ceremony that was happening later that day. Cautiously, he made his way down the hall to what he assumed was the master bedroom. He knocked gently on the frame, calling out "Reid? Are you there?"

Adam wasn't sure how to take the response, from what he could tell it was a unique combination of laugh, sniffle, and sigh. Stepping into the room, the first thing he noticed was that the room looked as he expected, as though a tornado and hurricane has hit simultaneously. Every available surface was covered in some sort of military uniform component. From the camouflage trousers draped over the lamp to the bed and floor littered with medals, ribbons, and other accoutrement, it was hard to tell it was a bedroom and not a ransacked uniform shop. Spencer wasn't immediately visible and the worry increased. Had he gotten trapped under the ridiculous amount of uniforms? Was he being smothered right now by his dress whites or PT gear? Advancing again, he finally saw Spencer, thankfully appearing physically unharmed by the garments surrounding him.

Spencer sat on the floor the bedroom he shared with his husband, back to the door. From what Adam could see, Spencer had gotten distracted by something while getting dressed. Whatever it was still had him distracted enough to ignore Adam's presence in the room. "Dude, what happened in here?"

At first, Spencer didn't give any indication that he had heard Adam. Just before the silence got awkward, Spencer spoke softly. "I forgot that he had given this back to me."

"Who gave what to you?"

"Derek Morgan. He gave me this when he was cleaning out his desk at the BAU. He told me that even though I didn't need it any more that it was rightly mine."

Despite what he was being told, Adam was still rather confused. "Gave you what?" Suddenly SPencer was lobbing something at his head. Adam ducked out of its way and it landed with a muted thump on the bed. He reached out for what he now saw to be a silver whistle on a bright blue lanyard. "A whistle? What? Was he like the unit CFL for the BAU and now that you are the big boss he thinks you need it?"

"Ha!" Spencer's laugh was sharp and brittle. "While he was the unit equivalent to a fitness leader, that isn't why he had this." He looked up at his friend who was now twirling the whistle on his lanyard. "Did I ever tell you why I joined the Navy?"

"Nope. Well, at least not that I can recall," Adam said. "I feel like there is a story here. Is there a story here? I'm going to be very disappointed if the story sucks." He looked at the whistle. "It's not gonna suck is it? It's gonna blow."

Spencer wordlessly held out his hand for the whistle. It wasn't until Adam placed it in his hand that he began speaking again. "Remember how I told you that I loved being known for something other than my brain? How I enjoyed the freedom to be 'normal'?" As Adam nodded, he continued. "I joined the FBI years before I should have been allowed. All kinds of waivers and such were given to me, including waivers for the physical portion of the Academy. I was getting over a nasty case of mono and wasn't cleared for full physical duty until several months after I graduated. Even though I did pass all of the tests, no one in my unit actually knew about it. They just saw the waivers, the big brain, and assumed I was utterly helpless when it came to anything that didn't involve solving ordinary differential equations in my head. It was frustrating but I could handle it. Until the day that I couldn't."

"What happened?"

"I failed my firearm qualification."

Adam started laughing. "YOu have got to be kidding me. You have qualified expert every single time I have known you. You are a better shot than most people in the Seabees."

Spencer grinned wryly, "I am now. Back then, not so much. It didn't help that I was distracted that morning on the range but...I failed. When I got to the office word had already spread. Did I mention that almost everyone at the FBI was under the impression I was useless in physical situations, including firearms?" He shook his head, "Word had already reached the unit and Morgan was waiting for me with the whistle. Since i couldn't carry again until I passed, he gave it to me for 'safety'. The next day I killed a man with a headshot while laying on the ground with my hands bound and using the pistol I took off Hotch after he had just kicked me."

"What the fuck?"

"I know, right? So, I give the whistle back to Derek because I obviously don't need it. The next day I come into the office it is waiting for me. He gave the fucking thing back to me. I was so pissed that I went down to vent to Garcia. She's always been a good friend and very creative. I thought she could come up with a good idea. While we were binging on pizza and Dr. Who, she suggested i join the military and come back dripping in medals and awards to show everyone that i was fully capable. We were both a bit drunk but it stuck with me and I joined the Navy. It was a couple of years before I told anyone else on the team that I was in the military."

Adam was giving him a look that even his profiling skills were having a hard time understanding. "So you joined for the glory? That...that doesn't sound like you, Reid."

"I know. That reasoning didn't last very long but it was what got me through teh front door of the recruiter's office. I don't think I woul have lasted as long as I did if I hadn't come ot my senses."

"Ok, so you aren't the selfish-prick you were starting to sound like in that story. What's the point?"

Spencer sighed, "The point is that a lot has happened since I got this whistle the first time. So much has changed. Back then, Aaron and Haley were still together and the 'IT' couple of the FBI. Gideon was still my mentor and alive, David Rossi my literary hero, and Emily had never set foot in the BAU."

"People change. It happens all the time. I'm still completely lost, dude."

"You can be incredibly dense sometime, Adam. Bottom line? I don't deserve this promotion. I don't care what anyone says about being a leader or other shit. I joined for the wrong reasons and even if they turned into somewhat acceptable ones, I still don't deserve it. Did you know I'm a drug addict, Adam? Yeah, remember years ago when we sat on the ADSEP board together? How I ran out of the building? I had to call Aaron because i couldn't reach my sponsor and I was moments away from asking that sailor who his dealer was so I could get a hit. With the exception of what they gave me when I lost my leg, I've been clean for a long time. It is hard sometimes though."

"I got nothing. That...is not what I expected. You are seriously fucking with my mind right now, Reid. What the actual?"

"I'm just trying to tell you that I don't deserve his fucking promotion. I'm fucking drug addict homosexual cripple. Why should I be entrusted to any position of authority? Why would anyone follow me?"

"They seem to follow you just fine at the BAU. Or did you forget that you are the big shot out there?"

"Ha! They follow me because they have no choice. Besides, they all believe that Aaron is pulling my strings. Besides, for the Bureau it looks great to have a 'wounded warrior' as the lead of an elite unit. If I was any kind of leader I wouldn't be having the issues I am with the team. JJ is all but out of control lately and nothing seems to work. So you see, I really suck as a leader….and that isn't even getting into the whole "I got my sailors killed on deployment"."

"Ok, hold it right there. I am beyond confused and completely out of my depth. I think you either need your husband or a professional here," Adam said holding up his hands.

Spencer sighed, "Just….just forget I said anything ok? Give me a hand." After being helped to standing, Spencer looked at his friend. "Thanks for listening even though nothing made sense. I've never been good with change and there has been a lot of that lately."

"Look, I can't say that I get it, but what I do get is that you are feeling really unsure of yourself righ tnow. I can't speak to the drugs, which I really think we need to talk about after this is all said and done, but for pete's sake, have you looked at yourself lately? You call yourself a 'drug addict, homosexual, cripple. First, why are you bringing Aaron into this? He is a great guy and if you want to be pounded or pound him, I say do it and don't tell me about it because while I love you, I saw enough when you got your tattoo. Speaking of which, how is that holding up?"

Spencer flipped him the bird as he continued.

"Remember when I was freaking out about deploying? About killing someone? About dying? About getting hurt? You told me that you had faith in me because I was strong, that I was stronger than anything that could happen to me. Well, look in the mirror buddy because you are pretty fucking strong. You have done all of that and are still here kicking. Admittedly, the kicking thing is a bit harder for you now...but still. I am getting extremely sappy as I say this, but you are beyond strong. You have handled all of this and you will keep going because you are just that fricking awesome. Besides, take it from someone who has been an O4 for a couple of years now. You won't be asked to do anything that I know you aren't perfectly capable of handling. Hell, you have a lot more responsibility and leadership stuff at the FBI than you will in the Navy here. You got this so calm the fuck down and let's go get you promoted.

Spencer raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'm not going to win this one, am I?"

"Do you ever with me?"

A small smile broke through, "Never."

"Ok, LT. Get dressed and get your ass downstairs. That's an order!" Adam barked as he grabbed the whistle off the floor and retreated to the sound of Spencer's stressed giggles. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he could see Aaron attempting to eavesdrop and see if Spencer was better.

"Hotch, I know we don't know each other that well, but dude your husband has got issues. Here, I have a feeling that this will mean more to you than it did to me." He tossed Aaron the whistle.

"Shit, I didn't know he still had this."

Adam shrugged, "I guess Morgan gave it back to him when he was cleaning out his desk."

"And finding it today brought up a whole host of issues and insecurities," Aaron said rubbing his eyes. "I should have realized."

"Hey now, you are working on planning this party AND he probably didn't want to worry you. I'm neutral...I'm like the Switzerland of this situation and sometimes you just need the precision of the Swiss to get shit done."

"I am still grateful," Aaron continued.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Look, I know I can come across as immature and crass, but Spencer means a lot to me. He has been a great friend and he is absolutely someone i would follow to hell and back. I also know that he doesn't believe in himself nearly as much as he should which is why it is up to people like us, those who care about him to remind him of these things." Adam sighed. "He gave me the whole spiel on how he went from failing a gun test to joining the military. Never let it be said that the guy doesn't go big or go home."

Aaron laughed, "He does have a tendency to take things to the extremes, doesn't he?"

"He does. Which is why he is now better than he was when I got here and should be ready to go soon. I'm going to go ahead and head over to base and make sure everything is set up there for the ceremony. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thank you, Adam. I know he is my husband but, well, I don't understand this side of him the way that you do. I..."

Adam cut him off, "You would have gotten him there in one piece and more or less on time. I just sped up the process because I won't go all lovey-dovey sexy on his ass when he pouts. Toodles!"

He was out the door and down the walk before Aaron could catch his breath from laughing so hard. He wiped the tears from his eyes and turned around to see Spencer coming down the stairs in his dress blues. As usual, seeing Spencer in dress uniform took Aaron's breath. Seeing him in the finely tailored uniforms that bore the ribbons and insignia of his service and sacrifice never failed to be awe inspiring. It was more so this time than any other. He stood on the bottom step, biting his lip. One hand held the railing for balance while the other held another uniform blazer, striped with the thick-thin-thick stripes of a Lieutenant Commander, and his white combination cover.

"You look," Aaron whispered. "Amazing."

Spencer snorted, "Hardly, but thanks. I'm sorry about this morning, Love. I was just having some trouble dealing with everything. I shouldn't have taken my insecurities out on you."

"All is forgiven," Aaron replied. "Now, we need to get gong unless you want to be late to your own promotion. Doing so would piss off Dave so I really don't recommend it. Are you ready?

"As ready as I'll ever be," Spencer said giving Aaron a quick kiss. He adjusted the cover on his head and opened the door. "I'm excited to see what's going to happen next." 


End file.
